Too Late
by Ginny-Rose95
Summary: Rachel stands up for Brittany while a slur of homophobic comments are thrown at her and pays the price. Will it be too late for the Glee club to tell her how they truly feel about their bright little star?
1. Chapter 1

Just a quick little side thought, this isn't exactly canon in the fact that Brittany and Santana are together now and it's placed before Kurt comes to McKinley.

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><p>"What's up with you girlie?" the cold, clear sneer of Karofsky and the jeers of his cronies broke through Rachel's thoughts. She had figured she was alone in the hallway, but a little ways down, on the other side of it, stood Brittany, clutching a Biology book to her chest, staring at Karofsky through impassive eyes. Rachel felt her heart beat irregularly; just recently Brittany had come out as 'bi-curious' and began to date Santana.<p>

The glee club had celebrated, even going out of their way to steal Kurt away from the warblers, for it but obviously the shallow-minded homophobic populous of the school was going to be less warm in their feelings. Karofsky's gang knew better than to mess with Santana, she could probably kick all their asses and still make it to rehearsal but Brittany was sweeter and less likely to attack. The fact that they had decided to go after her in a practically deserted hallway with no one around to help her just stirred Rachel's fury.

"I have to go to Glee rehearsal." Brittany stated calmly, wondering why these boys were so close to her. Karofsky stepped closer and she felt more confusion as he tried to grab her ass. "Excuse me," she said just a little bit cold, "but I have a girlfriend and she's waiting for me," she made to push Karofsky away but he was too big. With a high, cruel laugh he pushed her against the locker. The cronies shrieked in laughter as if it were an amusing jest and not sexual assault.

"Oh come on, no time to play for the little dyke? A bet that whore of a girlfriend you had wouldn't mind." His hands were back; Brittany felt a shiver of fear as she pushed more firmly against the man.

"I'm not lesbian, I'm bi-curious and Santana's not a whore." There was anger in her voice now and she pushed more fiercely against the man, struggling against him. Horrible memories of past childhoods were springing up and she was fast losing her resolve.

"Leave her the hell alone!" Rachel had finally had enough, and pushed her way through the small crowd of boys. They were shocked and so even with how small she was she was able to make it past them and to tug Brittany away from Karofsky before anyone of them had gone over the shock. "You already ran Kurt out of the school, and he was a better man than you could ever dream to be David, and now you're starting on sweet little Brittany! You should be ashamed!" Rachel gently but firmly pushed Brittany behind her, placing herself in front of her to yell at Karofsky.

He made to speak, probably about how a 'fag' like Kurt could never be more a man but Rachel interceded, speaking over his strangled half sentence. "And don't even make a 'gay' comment! It would be extremely hypocritical of you." Surprising his gang, instead of denying this 'absurd' accusation, Karofsky moved back from Rachel as if she was some small, dangerous creature.

"I know what you did to Kurt." She read the contemptuous look that darkened his face, "he didn't tell me, I could tell. And I swear if I ever see you harassing Brittany or Santana or making inappropriate comments, I'll make damn sure the whole school knows." With that threat hanging in the air thickly Rachel promptly turned, gently grabbed Brittany's hand and marched towards the staircase.

"Come on Brit, we can skip part of Glee class and I'll take you for ice cream." Rachel told the girl gently, squeezing her hand when she noticed how pale the girl was.

"Chocolate with rainbow sprinkles?" Brittany asked shyly. She didn't quite know why Rachel was being so nice to her, she was always simply dreadful to her but she was and her small hand felt oddly warm and comfortable in her cool one.

Neither girls noticed and Brittany would forever blame herself, as Karofsky seemed to unfreeze himself, anger returning from the temporary void Rachel's words had sent it to. They didn't notice as he charged them, the rest of his gang silently watching. They didn't notice until 'bitch' rang out in the hallway but by then it was too late; Rachel's small, warm hand was ripped from Brittany's as she tumbled down the flight of stairs, accelerated by the full weight Karofsky had put into the push.

Rachel screamed as she fell, every single jarring step feeling like a knife sliced through somewhere on her body, she heard a crack as she hit it with her shoulder, her leg came next, her chest burned as it slammed into one and everything blackened when with a sickening crunch she landed head first, sprawled onto the floor of the flight down.

She didn't notice as Brittany screamed bloody murder, running down the stairs screaming her name, as Karofsky was pulled away from the accident by his friends yelling at him to hurry. She didn't notice as Brittany clutched her, sobbing her name repeatedly and screaming for help. She didn't notice as the entire glee club in the choir room next door ran out, or how Mr. Schuester immediately went to call the hospital. She didn't notice as Tina and Mercedes began crying, begging her to stay with them, that help was on the didn't notice Puck punch the wall as a shaking, crying Brittany tried to tell them what happened or see Finn break into tears at the suddenly looming threat of losing someone he hadn't gotten to say he loved to, to ask for forgiveness.

Rachel didn't notice anything in the cold but comforting darkness that seemed to surround all around her, cocooning her in a pretense of safety.

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><p>I really hoped you all liked it because it's been floating around my head for a while now. Please tell me if you want me to continue because right now I'm figuring it as a one-shot.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Thank You for all the reviews! I hope you enjoy the second chapter!

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><p>The quiet, bleak white of the waiting room surrounded them as they sat in a circle, oblivious to the world around them. The only sound was that of the crying and the softly murmured words of comfort that none believed. Rachel had been taken in almost immediately and her father's had followed, having been pulled in to speak with the doctor's in charge of Rachel. That was half an hour ago now and there had been no news.<p>

Footsteps echoed from the hallway and a few wary but hopeful members of the group looked up but it was merely the mother whose daughter had broken her arm returning from the snack machine. The few hopefuls looked down and continued in their grieving silence. Most of them couldn't believe what happened, that Rachel was so hurt because she had tried to protect Brittany. They had always felt that Rachel, while not strictly mean person, was completely self-centered and would not help anyone unless it would benefit her. Now, and in the most horrible of ways, they had been proven wrong.

"Guys?" A soft voice, strong in sympathy and trepidation broke through and they all looked up to see a slender, dark-haired man looking at them. His white uniform was stained dark with something no one wanted to dwell on. Behind him stood Hiram and Leroy Berry, both with tear-stained faces. The group all felt their hearts drop.

"What's happened Daddy?" Doctor Lopez had never heard his daughter so quiet so heart-broken, and a quiet sense of rage slowly began to build. A small, young girl with such a bright future lay dying on a white bed in a sterile room miles away from her own because she stood up for his daughter's girlfriend, because she stood up for her beliefs.

"We've – I've done all that can be done but-"here he paused, looking at the faces in front of him. Lima was a small place and he knew a little of most of the people. There was his daughter, a slender Latin girl whose mother abandoned her at an early age, there was her girlfriend, a tall blonde that he had to perform a rape test on at eight so she could testify against her own uncle, the 6'3 star quarterback whose father had been lost to war, a small boy in a wheelchair he had tried to safe, a tall, pale boy in uniform who had been in the car that killed his mother after a drunk driver crashed into to it.

These children who had lost so much, how best could he say they were to lose something more? "But," he repeated finally, "there had been extensive damage, we," another pause, this was always the hardest part; "We don't think she'll make it through the night." He finished quietly, waiting out the storm.

The din that followed that statement was horrendous; sweet and innocent collapsed into her girlfriend, practically screaming her pain into the room, sputtering and sobbing into the shoulder of Santana whose own tears fed down an impassive face. Puck slammed his fist into the wall, screaming that he would 'kill that bastard!' before dissolving into his own tears. The rest of the club, to whom Rachel was most loyal, were all crying, some in anger, others grief, some silent, some loud but the worst was Finn, tears streamed down his face as he shook, anger, disbelief, and grief etched into every torrent of hims body.

"Mr. and Mr. Berry have already said their goodbyes and have welcomed you to do the same. You each will be given the privacy you –"

"No." Finn interceded, voice surprising even him from the steadiness of it. "Whatever we have to say, we can say it together. Ra – she preferred it when were together." He couldn't bring himself to say her name; it made the facts of being gone in the morning so much more concrete. The others agree and with some hesitancy Dr. Lopez consented, motioning for them to floor, and led them into the hallway. It was the same shade of white and led off to different divisions, doors leading off to patient's rooms. They walked a ways emergency care was on the second floor but finally they stopped in front of a white, non-descript door; walking by, people would not even realize a sixteen year old girl lay on her death-bed.

Dr. Lopez left them to their privacy and for a few minutes they all just stared at the door, as if glaring at it would ensure the recovery of the girl behind it. Finally, with shaking hands, Kurt reached for the door and pushed it open. With heavy hearts, they slowly pulled into the room. The slow, steady beat of the heart monitor created a sad drum-like orchestra with the other machines.

All eyes, despite their owner's intensions, eventually landed on the center of the room. Rachel lay there, silent and unmoving. The only proof that she had not yet passed form the living world was the thin ragged breaths she made. Despite the warnings the doctor had made Kurt felt a slight ray of hope build up inside him, Rachel was still able to breath by herself, something his mother, in her last few moments, couldn't.

"Who…" Finn spoke quietly, breaking the silence like a piece of glass. Many of them looked as if he had broken them out of some trance. "Who wants," the words felt like glass shards, scratching and cutting as he tried to force them out. Every instinct was telling him this was not a place to speak but he ignored them. "Wants to start?" he finally forced out, tears swimming in his eyes as he took in account what those words meant. Silence met his question at first as they all pondered what they'd say.

In life, Rachel Berry had willed the, all a voice, a say, in death, she had taken them all away. Finally, so quiet it was nearly as indiscernible as a pin dropping, Mike spoke. "I will," he said, stepping up to the bed. The Rachel that lay there was as motionless as a doll, a stark contrast, Mike noticed, than to the other, constantly bustling, Rachel.

Even her beautiful face was marred by the fall; dark purple bruises spread across her lightly tanned skin and a deep gash ran across the left side of her hairline. Mike ran his fingers gently over the marks, anger coursing through his veins as if his fingers had soaked poison from them and into his own bloodstream. It was followed by the icy chill of despair when not so much as a twitch of a finger came from Rachel. He willed himself to find the words, to find his voice for this girl who'd spent her life show-casing hers. His fingers slipped from her face to her lip hand and he gently wrapped it into his. They were warm, a sign that Rachel yet lived through, how long until the blood ceased flowing and the hand grew cold. He knew not.

"Saying goodbye," he finally started, quietly although even with that single precaution, they still traveled to the silent group behind him as they waited their own turns like it was some horrific child's game none of them could stop. "Has always been simple, easy even 'bye', 'later', 'call me', 'see you soon', these all pour out of my mouth each at least once a day, sometimes in different languages. This one's different though, the doctor says its permanent, that if I come to see you tomorrow, like I can all those other people I'll say goodbye to today, you –" his voice cracked and he didn't speak for several moments as his throat became too thick with grief and tears spilled onto his cheeks.

"You won't be here anymore!" the tears fell harder as he forced the words through, "And I'll leave here with regrets knowing I could never - can never say this to you in life. I never really got to know you – only vaguely as this omnipresent, loud girl I shared a club with, I always listened to what others told me of you, never bothered to find out myself. And I will never forget the day I joined the rest of the club to see what the screaming was all about and find you lying on the floor, unmoving. I can never forget hearing why you were there, that you'd protected Brittany and that-" tears overcame him and Tina moved forward to comfort him. He shook her away, determined to finish, "that it cost you your life. I'll miss you, your voice, your face, everything. I doubt there will be a day I don't walk into the choir room and look for you before realizing your gone, and that- that will hurt so much Rach, you have no idea how much I'll miss you." He finished as the tears fell harder and he walked back into the small group, dropping Rachel's hand gently onto her side again.

Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, Quinn, and Sam all tried, and all realized they couldn't do it; the tears fell too hard for any words to make out. Tina couldn't even look at her; whispering a quiet 'I can't' she had gently backed herself out of the room and Mike had followed. Sam merely took her hand, stared at her for several moments, and whispered a quiet 'goodbye' before joining the group. Quinn and Mercedes went up together and broke down half way through and joined the group. Kurt stayed the longest, the tears poured down his soft skin as he stared at Rachel, fully intending to capture and remember every single line on her face before finally, he bent and gently kissed her cheek, murmuring something indiscernible against her skin.

Brittany came up next, and for the longest time she merely held her hand, staring at Rachel before finally speaking. "You, you saved me. I was scared and lonely and they wouldn't leave me alone and you came out like a little angel and rescued me. I'll never forget that, and I know that we are all supposed to be saying goodbye because Tanny's daddy thinks you're going be with God by the morning but I'm not going to give up on you Rachel, I know you will keep fighting until the end and that you will make it through this." Her innocent, naïve words brought the room at large to tears as she bent down and kissed Rachel softly, squeezing her limp hand before joining back at Santana's side.

Santana went up next, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she did so. "I'm gonna be honest here, Berry. I never really liked you and you never really liked me. I thought you were this freak of nature who was blessed with this crazy voice and you thought I was some stuck up bitch who made your life hell. And then – then you just had to be this great fucking hero," her calm façade snapped as the words pushed out and a layer of anger laced behind the words.

"and now you've gotten yourself killed and I will never get to tell you how much I'm sorry and how I only ever did those things because you walked with such a confidence, such a warm feel to you that I needed to hurt you to make me feel better. It was stupid and immature and I'll always regret it but please Rachel," she grabbed her hand and squeezed firmly. "You've got to pull through this, you have to." Brittany came up and put an arm around Santana, leading her out of the room with a comforting hand.

Puck sighed, tears streaming as he walked forward for his turn. "You've always were my best friend, even as children you took care of me," he hated how small Rachel looked in that too-big hospital bed. "And I took advantage of all that by throwing it away freshman year; I wanted popularity and I wasn't going to get it by sticking by you. You didn't let me go though, and come Junior year, we were practically siblings again. And then that judgmental bastard Karofsky had to come screw it all up and I swear Rachel I'll get your revenge." His voice shook and he bent down to brush his lips against her forehead, whispering his love into her ear before walking away.

The glee club in a unanimous decision all left to give Finn his privacy. He took his time before speaking, taking in all the features of Rachel's face. He surprised himself that even covered in bruises, he found Rachel the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. "I love you Rae, I don't think I ever told you that enough. I love you, I love you, I love you. You are incredible, beautiful, amazing, fantabulous, awesome, gorgeous, kind, lovely; none of those words can really describe you because you are so much more than those words. You are a fighter Rae, and I know, I know that no matter what you'll pull through this. You are too headstrong to let this beat you."

The tears fell hard as he resorted to begging, begging her to stay; "Please Rachel," the tears racked through the words, "stay with me, I can't live without you," he pressed his head to her forehead and cried, allowing the tears to rack through him like he couldn't while everyone had been watching. Whether it was his own over-active imagination or what, he swore he could feel her hand squeeze his own.

Then, Finn's heart fell as Rachel's heart monitor flat lined and with a screeching finality he was pushed out of the room into the hallway as the doctor tried to resuscitate her unbeating heart. And Finn realized again, how too late he seemed to be at everything. He cried all the more as the glee club held him in sorrowful comfort.

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><p>Yes, another cliff-hanger type scenario and I'm sorry, but I assure you, you will get answers in the next chapter. Please feel free to tell me what you thought and if you have suggestions, go ahead and place them. Until next time, then.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for all your kind reviews!

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><p>The glee club and the Berrys waited in a horribly suffocating silence for a doctor or a nurse to come and tell them the news. Not many of them had been in hospitals for things like this but all could agree that what had happened could not be good. The group was completely silent, not even murmurs of hope to fill the void. Rachel was probably gone and with it, so had left the hope of the club.<p>

Dr. Lopez slowly approached, a mask of impassiveness fastened on his face, gesturing for the group to follow him. Finn wondered with a sense of crushing devastation, how many times Dr. Lopez had to tell a family they had lost someone a day. Dr. Lopez led them into his office and the door closed with a soft click when the last member weaseled their way in. Dr. Lopez moved to the front of his office, in front of the small desk cluttered with various pictures and family tokens before speaking.

"Well, we have done all we can for Rachel…" Finn wondered a little angrily why Dr. Lopez was drawing this out so, "and she has been stabilized." He finished, a soft smile curling his lips as the room at large seemed to sigh in relief. Tension that shouldn't have been there slid of the children's backs and they all seemed to relax just a little. "However, there has still been extensive damage done to your daughter and we will need to begin to talk of her recovery." He directed a look to the Berry's that he hoped convey his hesitancy of letting the children to hear this.

Hiram Berry merely told him quietly to continue and he rustled around a few papers until he had a fair few x-rays in front of him. "You already know we had to do immediate surgery to remove the loose shards of her right bottom ribs," he indicated the first x-ray which was of Rachel's chest. Her two bottom ribs seemed completely shattered, and a few loose shards seemed to be dangerously close to her lungs. "But we will need to go back with a bone graph as soon as a match is found in order to repair them." The Berry's nodded, they had already accepted the hard recovery their daughter would have to take.

Dr. Lopez pulled out another x-ray, this one of her left shoulder. It seemed to be completely smashed, several large fractures to which smaller ones branched off of. "There isn't much we can do for her shoulder but allow it to heal and supply her with muscle therapy to help build up the arm muscle." There was silence at that so he pulled out the next one. An x-ray of her right leg was next, completely torn up and broken. "Her leg will need surgery as well. Practically all of the bones are shattered and will need a bone graph. She will probably have to relearn walking so as to not walk with a limp or other ramifications." Artie squeezed Tina's outstretched hand at that. At least Rachel would be able to walk again, eventually.

"The last one," the doctor began, pulling out the last x-ray, a close up of Rachel's skull. There was no fracture or any damage noticeable to anyone in the group. "Will probably the hardest to deal with. It will require no surgery but extensive patience and a lot of therapy. If you look here," he gently circled an area to the middle of her brain. "You can see the Borea, a small area of the brain dedicated to language. The fall has caused rather extensive damage to this area and I'm afraid Rachel will have a condition known as Expressive Aphasia. We can't know for sure until Rachel wakes, which at current conditions, can take anywhere between a few days to a month, but it's quite likely that when Rachel wakes, she will be unable to speak or write more than a few words, maybe simple sentences."

The silence that followed these words was as horrible as when they thought Rachel was gone. No speaking meant Rachel couldn't sing and the thought of a silent Rachel Berry was such a dark thought none of them could bear to think of. How many of them had told her to shut up, said she wasn't talented, that she should leave it to the better, more talented singers? And now there stood a looming possibility that Rachel could no longer sing, that their horrid, selfish wish would be true.

Finn was the first to break the silence. "But she can learn again right?" he clenched his fist as he forced the words out slowly, "I mean the fall didn't damage her throat or hand any, so she can learn again right?" the hopeful look he gave was heartbreaking. Dr. Lopez decided to answer as gently as possible.

"Rachel's right wrist is indeed fractured, it's one of many minor injuries," Finn clenched his eyes shut at the fact that broken bones were 'minor' injuries for Rachel. "But once it's healed, it's quite possible for her to relearn to write and fairly quickly as well." He stated slowly, picking the best words out of hundreds of others.

"And speaking, what about speaking?"

"Well, she will be able to relearn that as well but," he paused, "it will require speech specialists and lots of time. It could take months for Rachel to be able to speak on as much of a fifth grade level." He finished looking at the group with carefully dispassionate eyes; it would be good to no one if he let on the anger he felt. "Her singing, however, when she regains the ability of speech, should be unaltered. That will be the one thing that boy was unable to take away from her." The glee club nodded, thanked him and left for him and the Berrys to speak alone.

Rachel would be okay; she had a horrible, terrifying, and hard road in front of her, but she'd survived and someday, no matter how near or far it may be, she'll be okay again. And until then, they all knew, they'd be there when she needed them. They felt the terror of nearing losing her and they were determined it wouldn't happen, but first…

First was her revenge...

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><p>Short I know, but this chapter was more of a transition one, between her near death, to her recovery. It was more to explain what she will be going through and the determination of her friends to be there for her. And I wanted Karofsky's punishment to have it's own chapter and for you, dear readers, to have an input. I have a sketchy idea on what they'll do but I wanted you all's impute and the one reviewer who said they hoped he got eaten by a pack of ravenous wolves and run over by bus, while a good idea, seems horribly unrealistic. And If I Die Young just came on and a feel like a horrible person for almost killing Rachel and apparently making a bunch of people cry. =( I hope you enjoyed it and please review.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

"That's ridiculous Mr. Figgins!" Mr. Schuester practically yelled, jumping from his seat and slamming his hands onto Figgins's desk. Figgins flinched slightly; he hated to be the bad guy in these situations, but in all honesty it was out of his hands. That didn't make it any easier to tell a teacher he greatly respected, and two grieving fathers this.

"It's out of my hands Schue! The school board has decided that there is no evidence that David Karofsky committed the crimes he was accused of!" Figgins yelled back, willing the stubborn man to understand. Mr. Schuester jumped right back in.

"No evidence! There was a witness saying they saw Karofsky push Rachel down the stairs!"

"Another glee club member! And only one to boot! Brittany Pierce is not the brightest crayon in the box, Schue and the entire glee club is known to be biased to Karofsky. Several of the members of the football team have testified that he was nowhere near the accident!"

"And they are any more reliable?" Mr. Schuester thundered back, finally losing all of his well-earned patience. "Brittany is a good girl and she wouldn't lie about something like this! And that still doesn't explain off the sexual assault charges!"

"Oh come on Schue. Miss Pierce has been coerced into faking sexual assault charges before; just this year in fact she accused Coach Beiste of inappropriate touching!"

"Brittany made a mistake; you're going to keep judging her for that?" Mr. Schuester couldn't believe what Mr. Figgins was getting at.

"In light of accusing a possibly innocent boy and ruining his life, then yes I am going to. Mr. and Mr. Berry," he sidestepped Mr. Schuester and addressed the Berrys. "I'm so sorry for what has happened to your daughter, she was a talented girl and an excellent addition to the school and I wish I could do something, but it's out of my hands. David Karofsky stays at this school, all investigations over." He looked back down at the papers on his desk, indicating the end of the conversation. The Berrys left without a word, Leroy gently placing a comforting hand on his shorter husband's back as they went.

Mr. Schuester turned on to Mr. Figgins as soon as the door closed, anger laced bittersweet in every word. "I can't believe you. Telling them how 'sorry' you are for Rachel when we both know you don't give a damn about her. Or any member of the Glee club at that." Mr. Figgins felt nothing but resignation; he was weary of this.

"It's not that, Schue! For god's sake –" but Mr. Figgins was not permitted to finish his sentence.

"That's what this is, isn't it Figgins?" Mr. Schue had gone deathly silent, his glare freezing Mr. Figgins from speaking. "You're extremely religious; you're prejudiced against gays, aren't you?" Mr. Figgins denied the accusation but the way he refused to meet Mr. Schuester's eyes as he did so gave him the answer he wanted. Mr. Schuester shook his head, disgusted, before walking out of the office, door slamming behind him.

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><p>Finn was pissed. Mr. Schuester had just explained to the glee club that Karofsky had been spared, again. Finn had walked out of class upon hearing the news and wasn't likely returning any time soon. Instead he stalked around the hallway, slamming his fist into lockers every few steps and ignoring the pain. The pain made him remember he was still alive, that even though it felt like it had been torn out of his chest every waking moment, his heart still beat in his chest.<p>

"Why the hell are you taking your horrible, teenage angst out on that poor locker Frankenteen?" Coach Sylvester stood just a few feet from him watching him with disdainful eyes. Finn gave a start and she laughed rather unkindly.

"Snuck up on you, so sorry about that," she sneered sarcastically before looking almost nervously around before stepping a little closer to Finn, "I know why you're doing that," she started off more gently, startling Finn, "frankly I'm appalled at the lack of action Figgins did, letting a monster like Karofsky walk free. First he got rid of Sweet, sweet Porcelain and the stupid school board didn't do a damn thing, now an innocent girl lies in the hospital and they sit on their high-horse." Finn was surprised by the almost caring tone in her voice, Coach Sylvester had never been nice to him and certainly not Rachel and now she was acting almost _motherly. _It was weird.

"If there is _anything _I can do for you Frakenteen, to help the cause let me know." She gave him a knowing smirk, squeezed his shoulder and made to leave the hallway. Finn was reminded of what Puck had said, when they were sitting in his house going through the plan with the others, about needing alibis. An idea popped up in his head and he flagged down Sue before she'd rounded the corner.

"Coach! Coach!" Sue let a small smirk cross her lips as she turned to face the boy. His eyes were alight with a sort mischievous glow that had her smirking all the more. "You have Saturday day detention this week right?" she nodded, liking where this was going. Finn explained in small details what she needed to do before she nodded and walked off, a light bounce to her step as she thought of that bastard boy getting what he deserved.

Finn watched her walk away before pulling out his cellphone. "Mercedes? Yeah it's Finn, listen I need you to tell everyone it's a go for Saturday. Yeah, Kurt too, thanks." He hung up, excitement coursing through him as he dialed the next number.

Santana picked up on the second ring and he explained in low tones what was happening. He could practically hear the smirk in her voice as she told him goodbye, and he understood it perfectly. She and he shared the smile thought at that moment, Rachel would get her revenge if it were the last thing they did…

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><p>Puck pulled up to the Berry's house, head buzzing from the conversation he just had with Mercedes. The plan was happening Saturday; this Saturday Karofsky was finally getting what's been coming to him. He's going to learn not to mess with Puck's family. Puck felt almost giddy at the thought but pulled himself together. This needed to go off without a hitch and that's why he was here.<p>

A hand was gently placed onto his arm and he turned to see Quinn smiling beautifully at him. It wasn't a very kind smile, more of a smirk than anything as she too was thinking of the plan. "Let's go." She whispered quietly and he nodded, before turning, unlocking the doors and opening the door to the car. He waited in the front for Quinn, gently taking her hand as they walked together to the front door.

He knocked, and it was merely a moment before the door had opened to reveal the tall, formidable looking Leroy Berry. Puck considered him a pleasant man but obviously, judging from the constant look of extreme anger that had become a constant in his facial expressions, not one to lie down as his family was threatened. That made this a lot easier.

"Mr. Berry?" Quinn's soft voice broke through and Puck turned a quarter of an inch to see that the small, devilish smile was back. "We have a proposition for you, can we come in?" Leroy Berry seemed to understand because he smiled back a little and moved aside to allow them entry way. Puck smirked as they filtered through, the Berrys were just as determined that Karofsky would get what he deserved as he and Quinn were…

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><p>Kurt was fidgety, Blaine noticed, and from the bags under his brilliant colored eyes, he wasn't sleeping. He was always on his phone it seemed, more so than usual and it wasn't just him that was noticing. Wes had made many allusions to it, not that Kurt paid them any heed. Kurt was speaking as much as he had been, sitting quietly and texting on his phone for the most of this week.<p>

This practice, however, was worse; Kurt had arrived late and seemed to be in a comparatively bad mood. He had stalked in and sat down beside him, throwing his bag down with unneeded force and had such a glare on his face that the council was even hesitant to reprimand him. Unlike what normally happened when Kurt came to practice with a bad mood, he didn't relax any as the singing progressed.

Finally, when he had scared Jeff stiff, Wes had enough. "Warbler Kurt, what on earth is the matter with you?" Kurt glared at the wall and Blaine could see by the slightly pinker appearance of his cheeks, that he was at least ashamed of his actions. "You've been hardly pang any attention to practice all week, and now you're not even trying to sing the song right, what could possibly happen to make you this angry?" the tone, Blaine thought, was all wrong for dealing with Kurt at this moment. It was exasperated and a bit skeptic, as if nothing in the world could make Kurt this angry. He merely hoped Kurt's shame would prevent him from exploding,

"What could make me this angry? Hmm, let's think…" he drawled out quietly, turning to face Wes with a deathly cold glare. Blaine wondered if he was seeing Kurt truly angry for the first time; he shuddered at the thought. "Maybe," he mocked them all with a lightly questioning tone that had the entire room flinching, "it's that my close, close friend Rachel Berry lies in the hospital in critical condition and has been so this entire week." He ignored the flinches and looks of concerns the warblers threw him and barreled on, before Wes could interrupt as he seemed about to do.

"Or it's the fact that it was the man who _threatened_ to kill me that did it and my supreme guilt over the whole thing that's been getting me down," more flinches and now the group was distinctly uncomfortable. Blaine himself hoped to god he would never have to hear Kurt say anything like that again. "Or that I just got a call from a friend saying that said boy got off without a warning again, because the entire school hates the glee club and apparently wants them all dead –" he had begun his rant but Wes cut him off.

"They let him get away?" his voice was just as quiet as Kurt's, thick with thinly veiled anger. Mutterings had begun through the Warbler crowd and Blaine understood what Kurt didn't; that the Warblers were every bit as much as a family as New Directions and the thought of someone like that walking free angered them. He reached for Kurt's small hand and squeezed it, trying to convey that fact silently. "Just like that? Are they stupid?"

There was no mistaking the sneer in Wes's voice at that and Kurt shot him a surprised look. He had expected the 'no excuses' prime and proper Wes to be lecturing him at this moment, not this angry Wes seemingly to be as outraged at the whole ordeal as Kurt. He nodded and watched with slightly bated breath as Wes cursed colorfully underneath his breath.

"Are you guys going to do anything about it?" he demanded and Kurt, surprised, nodded quietly. He didn't understand where this was all going, but Blaine seemed to because, he and Wes along with David all shared a smirk. "Well, Warbler Kurt, how can we be of assistance?" and Kurt smirked too at that moment, for he finally got what Blaine had silently been trying to tell him. The Warblers were a part of his family, just like the New Directions, and they were outraged at this; they wanted to help and Kurt was going to let them. Anything would do to help with this, to get Rachel's revenge…

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><p>Dr. Lopez wasn't an idiot; he actually prided himself on his intelligence. So when the glee club, minus four of their normal numbers but with an addition of a dark, curly haired young man all visiting on a Saturday and whispering to each other in excited voices, he knew what was happening and he smirked.<p>

Rachel Berry, who lie still unconscious in a white hospital bed, surrounded by people who loved her, whispering to her and taking turns holding her hand or putting personal touches up in the room, was being avenged at this very moment. A sweeter feeling couldn't have been found anywhere at that moment…

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><p>So, it didn't have the revenge like I promised but the set-up for it (what this is) was longer than I thought it would be, so I decided that I would write the whole revenge into three parts, the set-up, the actual plan, and the immediate after-math. I can still take your input into account for the revenge so feel free to tell me if you still have ideas for it! Until next time.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

WARNING: Contains violence, if you don't want to read about it, this is your warning. Onwards to story!

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><p>The Karofskys prided themselves on their home; it was a spacious four bedroom with several of acres that belonged to the family. It was a classic style farm-house and true to fashion, had no neighbors within several miles of them. The family had craved the privacy when they first arrived, a few generations before David's birth, having moved there from Atlanta, Georgia, where everything was crowded. It would be that after this weekend, the once craved privacy would become something to extract abject fear from and within reason.<p>

Dave was home alone; his parents had gone on a cruise in celebration of their anniversary and his brother was off to some all weekend frat party held by his favorite fraternity brother. He was never one for paranoia, he had been capable of staying home with no fear since he was six and that wasn't going to change anytime soon.

He had opted out of hanging with Azimio in favor of staying at home and settling on the couch to watch some television. He had just settled on some crappy horror movie when the sounds first started. It was creaking, seemingly coming from somewhere behind him, towards the back door. He ignored it at first – just the wind – and returned to his movie. Not long after, another creak, this time a little louder, as if whatever it was had progressed further into the house. He stiffened and lowered the volume of the movie for a moment, ears straining for any abnormal sound. He didn't hear any and mentally berated himself on his stupidity; ignoring his racing heart and turning the volume back up fully.

The third time the creaking started up, David had had enough. He hit pause on the remote before sitting up to investigate. He made his way slowly down the hallway, his traitorous heart thundering in his chest. He wasn't going to find anything; this was merely to prove he was being silly. These facts didn't stop him from edging himself cautiously into the kitchen, muscles tensed in preparation to bolt if he indeed found someone. No one was in the kitchen, however, and David returned into the hallway in relief, no one was in the house. His world cut to black, however, when a no one hit him none to gently upside the head with a lamp.

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><p>He came to not long after, a dull thudding in the back of his head from the impact and with the distinctly frightening feeling of not being able to move. He braved a look down and saw that he was indeed, tied to a plain wooden chair taken from his very own dining room. He looked around more widely and saw that he was sitting in the living room; the T.V. still paused on the scene where the boy, trying to prove nothing was wrong, was opening the door to the attic, where the killer lurked.<p>

"Look who's up," a gruff, somewhat mechanical voice David didn't recognize sneered quietly, breaking the bleak silence that had followed. He felt himself being turned around roughly and was greeted by four people dressed completely in black. They each had black hoodies, all hoods raised to hide their hair, black jeans that fell into black shoes and black gloves to complete the ensemble. The only thing that wasn't black was the masks they wore to cover their faces. They were each white, with a swirl of color cascading from the forehead to either cheek, and all differing from which person it was on.

"Who the hell are you?" he kept his voice as gruff as possible, trying in vain to hide his fear behind his tough-boy attitude. It didn't work as one of the assailants, a middle sized one who's figure seemed to hint at feminine, chuckled darkly. She stalked closer, gently caressing the side of his face with a touch that made him shudder.

"Oh look here, poor little Davie's afraid." Her voice betrayed her sex, but again held the same mechanic sound and unfamiliarity that hinted to David of some sort of voice altering device. Her nails dug through the glove and into his cheek in a quick, searing sort of pain as she spoke, malice seeping through. "It's endearing really, but I wonder," she stalked away, just behind David's line of sight and he craned his neck to try and catch another glimpse, determined to keep her in sight.

She sauntered again out of direct eyesight and placed both hands on either of David's shoulders, bringing her face down to speak directly into his ear, whispering the words in a darkly seductive voice, "what Davie has to fear." Hands clenched down painfully and David winced. "After all, he didn't do anything wrong." The seductive voice continued in it's quiet, deceivingly calm tones as the woman's hands slowly traced down his chest, lifting his shirt up somewhat as they continued their journey back up.

"Let alone push a girl down the stairs." The voice lost all traces of calmness, the seductiveness replaced with a quiet type of rage, the words barely carried over David's sharp gasp of pain as her nails dug into his bare skin, causing him to bleed as she racked them up his chest, leaving four long, identical, red lines on either side of his chest.

"This is what this is about?" he growled as the girl sauntered back to the group in front of him. "That was some horrible accident, the school board even said so," the impassive silence of his offenders seemed to egg him on in his brief, crazy bout of courage. "What? Nothing to say?" he mocked them, struggling against the thick rope that bound him, "not surprising really. You're all too cowardly to face me face-to-face and only with me tied to some fu-" his words were cut short by a shattering blow across his face.

The blow had knocked the breath out of him somewhat and before he had truly caught it again another was dealt to his lower abdomen. This caused him to keel over, coughing and trying desperately to get air into his depraved lungs. He looked up, panting somewhat, into a set of eyes of a blazing icy blue. "How dare you?" the voice was mechanically male, more so than the others and he wondered if this boy's voice was more recognizable than the others. The slight, quiet airy-ness to the voice seemed to be somewhat familiar but he couldn't place where.

"Cowardice is what you are Karofsky! Attacking a girl of a five foot stature from the back, too afraid to face her head on, is the very definition of cowardice!" the boy was passionate, David noticed, and he immediately placed his attackers to be in the Glee club. No one else gave a damn about that bitch Berry.

He was running through all members of the glee when another blow was struck; this one to a region down lower that caused him to sputter and tears to form in his eyes. Another one of the group, the tallest of them all, was bearing down on him, anger radiating from the taut body. "We might not be able to rob you of your life, like you almost did Rachel," another man, his voice bearing but a tint of a mechanical tone and he wondered if this one wore a device; the voice certainly seemed familiar "but we can sure as hell make it hurt." With those words, another fist pummeled into him, followed closely by another.

He lost count of the number of hits after the others joined in. He focused on staying conscious as every reachable area of his body was hit repeatedly. CRACK! He howled in pain as one of the men viciously punched his bottom most ribs. CRACK! Another one bent his right wrist back. CRACK! They beat his shoulder until it too felled under the pressure. The world went blissfully black at that and the pain washed from his body by a fresh wave of darkness.

"You know why we are hitting you there?" a voice whispered harshly and David groaned, eyes still clenched, as the pain roared back full force as he came back to consciousness. "Look at me," the voice demanded. It must have belonged to the last one, the one who had stayed silent during the beginning. His voice had the same mechanical tint but it was greatly over powered by the intensity of rage it managed to hold. David shrank back from it, too much pain sheered from him to hold any more semblance of bravery but he did as was told and opened his eyes.

The man stood much too close, his breath warming David's nose and David tried instinctively to move further from him. The man chuckled darkly as he cried out in pain as his entire body protested at the minuscule amount of movement. "Hurt's doesn't it?" he whispered, brushing his fingers lightly over the swollen mass of David's wrist. "Now you know what it feels for Rachel. You broke her ribs," a gentle pressure there caused him to gasp, "Her wrist," a slightly harsher pressure on his wrist caused him to cry out louder, "and her shoulder to name a few," he pressed firmly against his injured shoulder and David writhed and cried out in pain.

"There's really only one thing left," the boy whispered, and from his belt he pulled out a knife, thin bladed and wickedly sharp. David took one look at it, and, sure that his life was about to end, tried frantically to get away from the man. The man tisked at his movement, stood from his kneeling form, knife still clenched tightly in hand, and cuffed David sharply against the head.

The last thing David heard before the welcoming darkness embraced him was the man saying something about needing a still victim. David, for the very first time of the night, truly feared for his life.

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><p>The man chuckled again, gently pushing the knife back into his belt, mumbling something about scaring David good before pulling out four identical red sharpies. Each person grabbed one of the sharpies and the tall boy ripped open David's shirt, staring impassively at the purple tinted skin. It was horrible, he could admit, wanting to cause someone so much pain, but he did, and he felt a sickeningly feeling of accomplishment looking at the bruised flesh of this boy.<p>

Quickly breaking from his reverie, he uncapped the pen and joined the others in writing on the flesh of the victim. The girl wrote, in big, uncharacteristic curly writing, 'Attempted Rape' across his chest. The small, blue-eyed boy had written 'Threatened to Kill' across his stomach in tight, cursive writing. The other boy who had cuffed David into unconscious wrote 'homophobe' across his sternum in dark, barely legible writing. They all pulled aside and allowed him access to the unconscious body.

With a slightly shaking hand, he wrote 'Attempted Murder' across the bruised face of David Karofsky. They positioned the boy into a laying position in front of the T.V., turned the volume back up, placed the remote beside him, and locked all the doors before slipping through the back one, closing it with a soft click as the dead bolt locked into place.

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><p>Rachel awoke to too bright lights, and a definite sense of overcrowding. Almost immediately, several faces seemed to be all around her and it took quite a while for her groggy brain to recognize them. When she finally was able to identify them as her friends her eyes caught onto Brittany and she immediately opened her mouth, intent on apologizing to the girl for whatever happened, but the words didn't come.<p>

She panicked. She tried to find the words, to force them out of her mouth but none came. Tears formed into her eyes as she thrashed, the pain from her body almost unbearable. Finn's face, as handsome as ever even with worry carved into it, swam into surface and she felt herself calm as he gently wiped her tears away and brushed her thick hair from her face.

"It's okay Rachel," he whispered comfortingly, brushing his fingertips across her face, "We're all here for you, you're gonna be okay. We're not going to let anyone hurt you anymore. We're going to help you." Rachel felt the warmth that radiated from all her family, these odd nit-picking teenagers that seemed to not fit in, and knew that was true. She was safe.

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><p>Sorry for the wait! I've been very busy lately (finals week at school). Well, I hope you enjoyed it, and as always your opinions and these and ideas for the next chapter (resulting factors for this) are welcome. Until Next Time!<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Another kind of filler/ prelude chapter but I hope you enjoy it all the same!

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><p>David sat benignly in the hospital bed, his stoic father standing by his side. David had been cleared to leave after the doctor's fixed up his injuries but the detectives his parents had called wanted to meet him there to discuss the case and so they had waited, silently. David tried again, to no avail, to rub the words of his forehead with his left hand. He had scrubbed his face as well as his chest to no avail; the words were as brightly written as the day of the attack a week ago.<p>

The door creaked open and both men looked up in time to see two men, both young in appearance, silently allowing themselves into the white room and closing the door besides them. One, a pink faced blond, held a folder that was no doubt pertaining to the case and the other, a dark skinned dark haired man, held onto a notepad and pencil to take notes on the interview.

"David Karofsky and his father, Robert Karofsky I presume?" the dark skinned man questioned quietly and both men nodded. He jotted something down on the notepad before addressing them again. "I am James Roberts and this is my partner, Jason Michaels. We're here to ask you a few questions about the case and then we will be on our way, alright?" David nodded and braced himself for the questioning. He had little doubt as to who did this to him; the only thing left was to prove it.

"The only thing we are questioning you on today is if you know anyone who would want to do this to you?" The blond, Michaels, asked, handing Roberts the folder and taking the notepad in return. David nodded and thought for a moment how best to explain this.

"I know all four that attacked me. They are part of the McKinley Glee Club – the whole club's got it out for me since their fa- gay friend left," David hastily corrected himself but he could still catch a glimpse at the small frown Michaels wore as he jotted that down.

"And which ones do you believe had done this?" he questioned, his silver eyes boring into David's brown. David again pondered for a moment before speaking.

"Finn Hudson, he's the boyfriend of the girl who fell down the stairs – they blamed me for that accident, and is known to be violent. He was the one who wrote this –" he pointed to the blood red words across his face, "on me." He paused to allow Michaels time to write before continuing. "There was only one girl there, Santana Lopez, she's the school's lesbian bitch," another frown from Michaels following this wording but David ignored it. "and for some reason thought I'd sexually assaulted her girlfriend. She's pretty protective of Berry and I guess wanted 'revenge' or some shit." He waited for them to jot it down before continuing.

"The last two are Noah Puckerman – he's had several priors before this incident, some of violent correlations, and Kurt Hummel." The men seemed to give a slight jump at that one and peered at David in the most peculiar of ways.

"Now, Mr. Hummel, he's filed complaints against you at the school before yes?" Roberts questioned, rifling through the file. David nodded, "he's got no priors on him or any problems at school. A model citizen, in fact. What makes you think he was involved?" David paled slightly. How could he explain to these men how he was most sure Kurt was there? He didn't really want to explain to them how he knew those eyes, the kind that changed colors with the mood Kurt was in, icy blue in anger, brilliant green in annoyance, silver-ish grey when annoyed, and a mixture of them all when happy; a beautiful but rare color for David to see.

He didn't want to explain this to the men, so he lied. "Hummel and Berry are really close, like besties. He would want revenge, I suspect, and thought I was best to take it out on." He shrugged non committedly and slumped back into the bed. The men nodded told them they would be back with news and left the room. David's father left to sign the release papers leaving David to stew in the light of the investigation.

He knew it was wrong, and the guilt of the whole sordid affair was eating him alive, what he did to Rachel and it was something he was going to regret for the rest of his human life. He even felt guilty for what he did to Hummel; he knew why he attacked both of them as well. He was jealous of them, of their perfect little lives where they didn't have to hide who they were.

It sickened him really, what he had become, this monster that went around attacking people smaller than him. People that were guilty of nothing but being who they were or standing for what they believed him and as he lay there he thought of calling off the investigation, coming clean of the whole affair.

But then his father walked in, a small but comforting smile on his lips as he helped his son to his feet, whispering words of encouragement David didn't deserve and promising they would get the 'monsters' that did this to him and David couldn't do it. He couldn't bear to tell his father that he, his youngest child, was the true monster and deserved what came to him.

So he followed his father silently out of the room, wincing at the pain that shot threw him with every step he made as he had 'forgotten' to take his pain medicine, feeling he deserved every painful lurch that descended into him…

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><p>Roberts sighed heavily as he slid into the car adjacent Michaels. Michaels himself was rather pale looking, fists clenched hard against the steering wheel. Roberts knew what was wrong, it was common knowledge around the police station how Michaels own son, first born, had been killed in a hate crime. Five men had ganged up and beaten his child to death when was naught fifteen and it still haunted him.<p>

He gently placed a hand on him whispering, "Don't worry about it. Let's just solve this crime and be done with it." Michaels looked back at him murderously; his own gaze seemingly telling him how much he doubted David Karofsky deserved this justice. Roberts agreed, of course, but it wasn't their job to decide who deserved justice and who didn't, so he gestured for Michaels to drive and he did so, putting their small police car into reverse.

Roberts sighed again, sometimes he hated his job. When he had to help a homophobic boy who had probably almost killed a girl get 'justice' on the people who had avenged her, he really hated his job.

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><p>Don't worry, all this seemingly randomness does help with the plot! The next chapter is them interviewing all of their suspects and some Rachel healing moments. I hope you enjoyed it all and I would love to hear your ideas! Also, if you were wondering, Karofsky's ideas as to who attacked him were right. Just thought you should know that because I doubt it will ever be stated outright in the actual story. Until next time!<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry for the long wait, I hope you enjoy!

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><p>A loud knock reverberated through the large house, disturbing the quite Santana Lopez had desired when spending the day with her girlfriend. It was the first time they had been alone since the attack and Santana was quite content to cuddle up to the blonde and fall asleep watching Britt's favorite Disney movies. At first she ignored the knocking, lightly upping the volume to The Little Mermaid and cuddling back down with the sweetly smiling blonde, thinking that whoever was at the door would cease eventually.<p>

The person however, persisted and with a growl that hinted at retribution to disturbing her first none-sexual date with Britt in a long time she stalked her way through the den and into the large hallway, Brittany trailing quietly behind her, too curious to resist following her girlfriend. Santana checked the door hole and saw two young-faced cops, one peering through the window as if hoping to see someone and the other poised to knock again.

Santana rolled her eyes and muttered 'idiots' before turning to look at her girlfriend. "You know what to do, right boo?" She could feel a begrudging smile cross her lips when Brittany smiled and nodded her head exuberantly, reaching her pale hand out to hold Santana's. Santana grabbed it gently before opening the door.

The men acted fast, introducing themselves and asking if they could come in. Santana rolled her eyes and demanded to know what it was about. She knew of course, that Karofsky would name her as an attacker but she knew enough with dealing with the law to act innocent and yourself as much as possible. It was quite easy for her, seeing as she was annoyed enough at being intruded open on her 'alone' time.

"Why the hell would I let you in my house without knowing who you were?" she demanded, settling for placing one hand on her hip as opposed to folding them across her chest as the latter would involve dropping Brittany's hand. She could feel rather than see one of the cops – Mitchells or whatever – eyes drop to their intertwined hands. Rather than dropping them like she would have before she gently tugged at Brittany's hand and brought her closer to the front so that she stood equal with Santana in the doorway.

"As you can see Mitchells –"

"Michaels, miss."

"Whatever." She glared at him slightly before continuing. "I am busy at the moment having a private day with my _girlfriend_," she put emphasize and the word to see their reactions. As opposed to a flinch or a dirty look they had become accustomed to, Michaels merely smiled and addressed them.

"I wish not to intrude on such a private moment especially since you must not have had much time since that accident with your friend." He could tell that, try as they might, they weren't winning points with this girl so he tried a new tactic. "We only need to ask you a few questions on the home invasion and beating of your classmate, David Karofsky." She raised an eyebrow.

"What's that got to do with us?" she kept it short and simple, her face the perfect façade of confusion and annoyance; she only hoped Brittany was just as convincing. She felt her hand being squeezed and inwardly smiled, she had little to worry about; Brittany may not be the sharpest person in the world and she was as naïve as a three year old but when it came to family – which she begrudgingly admitted Rachel was – Brittany would kill and lie for them.

"Well, you see," this was the awkward part and Roberts glared at Michaels for leaving him to deal with it. He really needed to hone on his rock-paper-scissors skills. "David's identified you as one of his attackers," another raised eyebrow, "and in fact, told us the entire glee club has been after his blood."

"David Karofsky is a chronological liar. A bastard too," she added before shrugging her shoulders and returning to the conversation at hand, "I didn't do it. I wasn't anywhere near him apart from school and trust me I stayed away from him then too; neither was Brittany." She cast them a disdainful look and made to close the door, knowing full well it wouldn't work. As she expected, the dark one, Roberts, placed a gentle but firm hand against the door, halting its movement.

"Well if that's true, you wouldn't mind telling us where you were this past Saturday?" he smiled sweetly and gently held out the notepad to document her response. He didn't know why, but he had the distinct feeling that this girl was involved somehow. He was proved wrong however, when the girl rattled off an alibi.

"I was in Saturday detention at the school all day." She responded, raising an eyebrow as if daring the man to question her.

"What had you done to land yourself in detention Miss Lopez?" Roberts continued, juggling the notepad in one hand as he tried to write steadily with little balance. Santana smirked slightly at that but made no offer for them to come inside. The sooner they were gone, the better.

"Me and Finn did. We were making 'rude' and 'vulgar' insults to the football players in the hallway and Coach Sylvester caught us and put us in detention with her for Saturday." She made air quotes around 'rude' and 'vulgar' and smirked again. Roberts made a sort of 'tch'-ing noise in the back of his throat that indicated his disbelief Michaels stayed quiet, observing both girls closely. At the academy that had been taught the basics of body language, for interrogational purposes, and neither girl showed any indication that the alibi was fabricated and yet he couldn't shake off the feeling that the story was false.

"So, if we went to this –" he looked across Roberts shoulder to check the name, "Coach Sylvester, she could collaborate your story?" Santana looked at him as if he were some particularly interesting slug before nodding slowly, as if he was unable to understand.

"That would be the whole part of telling you. Now, are we done here?" she made to close the door, intent on getting back to her private date but once again Roberts had blocked it. She nearly growled in frustration, slamming the door open so hard it crashed into the other end. Roberts winced slightly out the loud crashing noise before addressing the slightly fuming Santana.

"I'm sorry Miss, we are nearly finished, but we need to know the whereabouts of your girlfriend as well." Santana glared and tightened her hold on Brittany's hand.

"Why? Karofsky didn't blame her too did he?" She made sure she sounded more annoyed than worried and held Roberts's gaze with the best look of disdain she could muster.

"No, but she did file a complaint against David and David did list the entire glee club as possible suspects so it would be better if we had her official statement on the subject as well." He gestured to the notepad and then smiled widely at Brittany. Santana squeezed Brittany's hand and waited for her response. Brittany for a moment gazed around the faces around her as if just realizing they were there and Santana wondered if she was going to make a statement none but her would understand as she was prone to do.

However, when Brittany finally spoke, her words were quite clear. "I was with Rachie on Saturday," she told the police quietly, breaking character slightly to reach out and hug Santana. She was surprised to see the flash of an encouraging smile on one of the men's faces. "Cedes, Artie, Tina, Sammie, and Mikey were all there too. I remember 'cause Kurtie and his boyfriend Blaine had to leave early for Warbler's practice." Michaels looked up at that.

"Kurt Hummel and his boyfriend left early? Do you know where they went? What's the other boy's name, do you know it full?" he asked her sharply and Brittany let out a soft whimper that indicated to Santana she was scared.

"You're scaring my girlfriend. I don't appreciate that." she glared at Michaels reproachably, "Kurt's boyfriend's full name is Blaine Anderson, they both go to the Dalton Academy in Westerville since you're poor _victim _threatened to kill Kurt since he likes dick." Santana ranted slightly, glaring at the two men who had ruined her perfectly good Saturday. She had been hoping Brittany would be in the mood for later (apparently Ariel made her horny), but now she would be all worried and frightened and Santana would have to spend her time comforting her instead.

"They had to go perform at a nursing school to practice their skills so they left early. They came back at like 6 or so."

"How do you know what time they came back exactly?" Roberts asked; keen to catch some sort of inconsistency in her story. He was not, perhaps, glade to be defending such a boy but he was also keen on the law and if these two girls broke it, no matter the reasons, it was his job to report it. Santana, on the other hand, was too angry to smirk inwardly and instead marveled at the idiocy of the man who just had to pick the one fact that she and Brittany, or hell the entire glee club, would have completely straight.

"Because you dumbass, at 6:35 sharp Rachel awoke. It's not something you forget soon, seeing someone you were told to say goodbye to waking up. You know, since your client fucked her up so bad she was on her goddamn death bed." Michaels and Roberts both flinched at that one. With rather hurried goodbyes, the two explained that they would be back if they had further questioning, thanked them for their time and they left. Santana slammed the door behind them and glared at it for several moments.

Brittany let her girlfriend vent for a bit before gently wrapping her arms around her. She giggled when Santana shot her a confused look. "Everything worked out perfectly Tanny," she gently moved her hands to Santana's hips and smiled as she turned around to face her. "And besides, Ariel totally got me bothered and I want sweet lady kisses." Santana laughed warmly as she followed the loony blonde back into the living room…

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><p>"Do you believe this?" Roberts whispered hoarsely to his partner who seemed to bear the same look of incredulity as he did. They had just gotten out of a rather tiresome conversation with one Sue Sylvester, who besides insulting both of them several times, cleared two of their main suspects in the crime. He had been quite sure the two girls were lying but Coach Sylvester had come up with video proof of the two sitting in the detention hall with several other students time-dated to the Saturday, paperwork, and even a sign-in sheet with the two's signatures.<p>

"No. I thought they were lying." Michaels replied hollowly; the entire case was leaving him emotionally drained. He felt as if he was being pulled into two sides, the law and his morals. The law was screaming at him that the two girls were guilty of something and needed to be punished for at the very least abetting a felony but his moral side was arguing quite well. It felt like a stab through the heart, watching the two girls hold hands, watching Miss Lopez seemingly trying to shelter her girlfriend from the two. That part screamed at him that David Karofsky deserved this for hurting these people.

Roberts shot him a worried look and he shook it off as well as the onslaught of emotions. "Come on," he told his partner briskly, moving swiftly to the car and opening the driver's side door. "We need to check Brittany's and the others alibis." He barely waited for his partner to buckle his seatbelt before backing out of the parking lot and driving north towards the hospital.

His job was to uphold the law. David Karofsky had been cleared of the charges by the school and until the Berry's charges came through, he was an innocent man that had been dealt a cold blow by criminals and needed to be given justice. That was his job and nothing more. It didn't matter that his son's bloody face had become a source of nightmare's to him again as it stared accusingly at him until he woke in a cold sweat every night.

His job was to uphold the law for innocent, everyday people. Even horribly biased and judgmental people like David Karofsky… He must remember that…

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><p>So, I know I promised like, all of the alibis and such but I sat down to write this and it just kept going and got rather long so I decided to set it in segments. I'm kind of glad as well, because I think Roberts and Michaels should be more intertwined into the story plot and I think it's possible with Michaels's background. The next one has them at the hospital which means there will be Rachel moments  involvement included with whoever's alibi that will be shown. I hope you enjoyed the chapter (I particularly like Santana and her bitchy / over-protective side) and if you have any ideas or anything, just tell me. Until Next Time!


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey-lo," she tried, brushing the hair out of her eyes with her left hand, wincing as she touched the bruise that lay along her hairline. Blaine smiled cheerfully at her, gently sitting on the edge of her bed, careful to stay away from her bad leg. He laid the bag he carried at the foot and reached over to hug her. He was careful to watch for her ribs and arm but she still winced a little.

"Sorry," he told her, a glimmer of guilt shadowing his smile. She shook her head, indicating she didn't mind and pointed towards the bag. Blaine smiled embarrassedly and grabbed the bag, sitting instead on Rachel's right side to show her. "Well, Doctor Lopez says that reading aloud helps you to regain your speech abilities faster and well…." He pulled out one of the books, "Whenever I'm sick, since I was little and my mom read them to me, I've always used these to pass the time." He smiled embarrassedly again and showed her the title.

She bit back a laugh only because of the face he was giving. She looked at him and shook her head, "child-ens!" He thought it would be rude to say that with her messed up pronunciation of words, she sounded like a child so he instead tried a different tactic.

"Come on Rae-Rae!" she glared at him for the nickname and he smirked, gently opening the book to the first page and holding it carefully above her chest at eye level, "you will love it! I know you will and…" he placed the book down on his lap and grabbed something else from the bag. He pulled out a package of redvines and smiled as her face brightened up. "We will have some for every chapter you complete, okay?" she glared at him and Blaine interpreted it correctly. "It's not extortion, it's a deal."

She rolled her eyes and went to pick up the book. She winced as she tried to pick it up with her right hand and pain shot from her wrist all the way up. "Careful Rae-Rae!" With gentle hands Blaine lifted up the book and opened it in front of her, his arm placed carefully around her head so she seemed to be cuddled into the crook of his arm. Her eyes glanced over the title page briefly.

"Ha-Harry." He nodded encouragingly and she continued, "Pott-Potter and the Sur-sor-"

"Sorcerer's" he quietly read her through the word but Rachel was no longer listening. She had seemed to shrink closer to him and from a second's patience, realized she was shaking slightly. "Rachel? What's wrong?" he traced her eyes and looked out into the hallway. He'd left the door open because Rachel enjoyed watching the people that walked by if she'd been left alone for a while and was bored. Right now, standing just a few inches from the doorway and apparently arguing with Rachel's doctor, stood two police men.

He couldn't see their faces, but from Rachel's near terrified expression, she either knew one of them or was uncomfortable with cops. He took a guess. "You don't like policemen Rachel?" he questioned quietly, careful for them to not overhear. She shook her head minutely and kept staring at the door as if praying they would leave. "I'll go see why they're here, it might not be about you." He slid from the bed, placed the book on the bedside table and made his way to the men.

"…It's ridiculous! You are going to bother an extensively injured woman" Doctor Lopez gesticulated wildly towards the room beyond him, nearly hitting Blaine as he did so. "On facts that you can learn from myself or the videos that can be located from our secretaries in the waiting room!" he gestured them away but the policemen stood their ground; none of the men noticed Blaine and he made no indication of his appearance.

"It is best to learn from the source, the suspects in question could have passed through the lobby and left through one of the various exits in this hospital and none would have been the wiser!" one of the men shot back, clearly annoyed by the doctor's reluctance.

"Ridiculous! There are alarms on every which door as well as cameras pointed towards them! None of them could have left without us knowing, and" he stepped closer to the one that had spoken, a pink-cheeked blond, "If you are accusing any of the hospital staff of this crime, you'd better rethink Mr. Michaels." The look Doctor Lopez seemed a little too knowing for this Michaels to be comfortable with for he quickly changed route.

"And what about the ones that had left early, Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson?" Doctor Lopez made to speak but Blaine interceded instead.

"Well gentlemen," he smiled benignly at the shell-shocked faces in front of him, "if you promise to leave this area as you are making Rachel in there really nervous," he dropped his voice somewhat at the last part and they all made quick glances at Rachel. Blaine's heart dropped at the sight of Rachel pushed as far as possible into the bed, blankets pulled to her neck with her left hand clasped tightly onto it and warm brown eyes widened fearfully.

"I will answer your questions." He finished, staring expectantly at the two men. They seemed to be unnerved for a moment because they glanced confusedly at each other and one of them, the one Blaine did not know the name of, checked a file briefly.

"And you would be?" he asked finally, looking back up at Blaine expectantly.

"Blaine Anderson." He responded coolly; he didn't quite like the way the man was looking at him and wondered what he knew.

"And you are in a relationship with Kurt Hummel, correct?" he asked, pen poised to jot down Blaine's responses. Blaine raised an eyebrow but before he could question the relativity to whatever was going on, Doctor Lopez intervened.

"I fail to see the point of asking such a question. I don't know what Mr. Anderson's relationship status with Mr. Hummel has to do with the home invasion and beating of David Karofsky, Mr. Roberts." _So that's what this is about, _Blaine thought, watching as the man flushed slightly and became interested in the papers in front of him. Instead his partner chose to answer the two.

"We meant no offense, Mr. Anderson, Doctor Lopez," he addressed both but stared intently on Blaine with an unreadable expression. Blaine would have to admit, it was rather unnerving. "We are merely trying to collaborate some facts that David Karofsky had told us, if you are uncomfortable with answering the question, feel free to say so and we will move on to another."

Blaine felt himself relax somewhat from Michaels's words; he didn't know what it was, but something about them left an almost comforting feeling behind. "It's alright; I'll answer your questions." He paused for a moment, to brace himself. "Yes, me and Kurt Hummel are in a relationship, it's of the romantic variety," he added before Roberts could ask the question. The man nodded slightly and wrote something in the paper; Blaine neither knew nor could be bothered with knowing what it said.

"Oh-kay," he drew out the word as he finished writing with a rather odd flourish, "can you tell us for how long you have been in relations with Mr. Hummel?" he asked, staring intently at the young man, determined to catch any unease or maybe a twitch of a muscle that would hint at a lie. He was rather disappointed when Blaine answered coolly and clearly, no trace of any emotion.

"I've known Kurt since November when he went to spy on our glee club for his. We've were friends ever since; we started dating about a month ago, around Regionals." Blaine responded, staring intently on Roberts. Roberts paused for a moment to observe the boy before ducking his head to write down his answer. He didn't know why but he had the same gut feeling as he had at Santana Lopez's house; something wasn't right.

"Since November," Michaels read off, drawing the last word out thoughtfully, "That would be around the time Kurt Hummel's father put out complaints about David Karofsky through the school, wasn't it?" the boy in front of him had the decency to look down and then back up, obviously wondering how much he should reveal about that time.

"I suppose – yes, yes it was." He said, intently staring at the wall right above Michaels's head. He didn't think that this part would show up and felt it was stupid to not have thought of it while with Kurt; he didn't know how much he could reveal of this without angering Kurt. He could tell Michaels was watching him and so he looked back down to meet the pale silver of the man's eyes.

"Do you know what the whole story behind the accusations was?" Michaels asked quietly. He'd felt, while reading the paperwork the school had drawn up, there was more to the story than Kurt Hummel had stated. It didn't make sense to him that a boy like David Karofsky, one who teased and humiliated at school one day, would just threaten to kill the next without any preamble.

Blaine met his eyes squarely. He knew what the man was trying to do and he knew how he must respond, "Your 'client' threatened to kill Kurt. I remember him calling me, frightened as hell and wondering what he should do. I told him to go through the school system, try to get justice that way. He didn't until his father forced him to, David was expelled without preamble by the active principal but it was rebuked by the school board and Kurt transferred to Dalton." He answered, crossing his arms over his chest. He felt distinctly uncomfortable talking about this to this strange man.

"Did you ever have a face-to-face confrontation with David Karofsky?" Roberts shot out, hoping to end the sudden stare-off that his partner and Blaine had entered into. He knew for a fact that Blaine had, school video showed that he and Kurt had met with Karofsky about a month prior to Rachel Berry's accident and knew if the boy lied, he would rise from person of interest to possible suspect.

"Yeah, about a month ago at the benefit concert New Directions held. Me and Kurt had just begun dating and Karofsky had made an anti-gay comment and confronted him. It didn't turn physical though, if that's what you mean. Santana Lopez interceded before it got quite that serious." He watched through impassive eyes as Roberts scribbled that down.

"Anything else? I need to get back to Rachel," he gestured towards the room where Rachel still watched through fearful eyes. Michaels stared at the girl. It was the first time he'd ever seen the girl; he never thought about how tiny the girl would be but there she sat, propped up on what appeared to be half a dozen pillows, barely covering half of the over-large bed, one leg bulky in what must have been quite a cast, her right arm laying practically useless at one end of her, the other tugging at the blanket nervously, and the bruises. The bruises marred at least half of her face, a vivid purple despite the time that passed.

"She's tiny…" he breathed out, barely over a whisper, eyes glued onto the form of the girl. He could feel Roberts stiffen beside him and wondered dimly if his partner had heard him.

"Pardon?" Blaine brought him out of his reverie and with swiftly blinking eyes he turned back to the boy. He was staring at him now, his warm colored hazel eyes seemed to be a little too understanding. He faked a cough to gain his bearings before speaking again.

"Yes, sorry. I was wondering, Doctor Lopez here, Santana Lopez, and Brittany Pierce have all confirmed that you and Kurt Hummel left here before the others and returned around six o'clock in the evening on Saturday. That leaves ample time for you both to be involved in the crime against David Karofsky. Do you have any idea as to where you might have been at that time?" Back to business but he could tell from the eyes that burned a hole through the back of his head and the intensive gaze of the boy in front of him, his actions were not forgotten.

"Yes, our glee club, the Warblers, was performing at the local care home in Westerville. It's called the Sunny-Day Villa and it's located at 750 Magnolia Crescent, just take the freeway, turn left and continue down Privet Drive until you hit the Y-intersect, then turn left, about halfway down Magnolia Crescent, you'll find the care home. " Roberts wrote it down and nodded.

"Thank you for your time Mr. Anderson. We shall call on you if we have any more questions for you." Blaine nodded and watched as the men walked by. If he hurried and used the shortcut he knew, he could get there before they did. Quickly, he turned back into Rachel's room. Rachel was staring at him through wide eyes.

She gestured to the door and he explained that they were asking about David Karofsky. She had already been explained (and lied to) what had happened to him. She cast him a fearful look and he smiled, gently reassuring her with little words. He placed the bag of books and candy on the table beside the first book, told Rachel he would be back in a little bit, with Kurt this time, gently hugged her, and left the room. Finn passed beside him, shooting him a curious look.

He stopped long enough to explain everything to Finn and for Finn to wish him luck, a knowing smile on his face that indicated to Blaine that his alibi had already been smoothed over. _Lucky bastard, _he thought good naturedly as he slid into the passenger seat of his car mere minutes later. He had given them the long directions, but he knew a way that would take him there in half-an-hour's time, twenty minutes before them. Chuckling lightly, he slid the keys in the ignition and slowly backed from the driveway; this whole thing was proving to be ridiculously easy.

* * *

><p>"You want to talk about what happened in there?" Roberts finally broke the dense silence that had followed him and Michaels all the way from the hospital to the care home that stood in front of them.<p>

"It's just…" Michaels closed his eyes and thought of the best way to phrase his words that didn't make it seem that he needed to be taken off the case, "it's getting harder to do this. When I saw that girl laying there, those bruises strewn across, bandages and casts every which way, staring at us so fearfully, it reminded me of last year. It… I'm fine, I can handle this." He stated firmly and Roberts had to wonder if it was for his benefit or Michaels's own.

But Michaels was getting out of the car now and he hastened to follow, stepping in stride of him as he knocked on the door. A thin face, mousy brunet answered the door. She looked at them questioningly. After introducing themselves and showing her their badges, she hastily let them into the foyer, closing the door with an inaudible click.

"So gentlemen, what can I help you with?" she spoke and Michaels was surprised to hear a clear, brisk tone; he'd been expecting more of a squeaky or nervous tone. She put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips, waiting rather impatiently for one to speak.

"Well ma'am, we're investigating a crime and we need to know, do the Dalton boy's school's show choir, the Warblers, often perform here?" at the mention of the Warblers, her face seemed to lighten considerably.

"Oh yes. I've never met such sweet boys around here before they came around. They've got such wonderful voices too." It was odd to see her face light up at just the mention of the group.

"Yes, I'm sure they are fantastic. I just need to know, did they perform here last Saturday?" Roberts questioned quickly, wishing to make quick work of this.

"Yes, they sang a wonderful rendition of Katy Perry's 'Teenage Dream'. It was very adorable, in fact –"

"Do you know if a Mr. Blaine Anderson and a Mr. Kurt Hummel were here to perform?" she looked most affronted at Michaels's interruption and when she answered, it was with the same brusque tone as before.

"I don't know the boys by name, I'm sorry." She made to open the door but Michaels covertly shifted so the door handle was just barely out of reach. Her eyes narrowed but she didn't say anything, waiting instead for him to speak.

"Do you know if any of the residents would know?" he waited as she pondered, worried for a moment that she would say no. He didn't know what to make of the alibi if she had but after a moment's thought, she spoke again.

"Yes, I suppose Mr. and Mrs. Salazar would know, come on, I'll show you to their room." She gestured and they followed her through a small living room where several elderly women sat chit-chatting in front of a T.V. that blared 'Days of Our Lives' back at them, and into another small hallway, warmly lit. Upon the hallway, they turned into the first doorway, which had been left open. Michaels heard an odd scurrying type of noise seemingly from the closet but identified it with the small T.V. that sat a few inches from the closet instead.

Two people sat in the middle of the room, on a small flowery loveseat that was positioned right in the doorway, in front of the television. A large full bed sat beyond that and Michaels assumed that this was the type of care home in which the residents brought their own furniture.

"Who is they Doreen?" the woman spoke out in a thick Filipino accent, halting her knitting as she spoke. Her husband beside her turned from the television to the doorway at her words and too stared at the two impassively.

"This is Mr. Michaels," Doreen gestured towards him and he offered a soft smile towards the two, "and Mr. Roberts," Roberts waved at them, "Mr. Roberts, Mr. Michaels, this is Marietta and Manuel Salazar." She introduced quickly before turning her attention back to the couple, "Mr. and Mrs. Salazar they just have a few questions about the past Warblers performance." They nodded and she gestured for the two to ask away, backing out of the room as she did so.

Roberts strode forward, pulling out two pictures as he did so, "Do you know these two boys," he handed one to Mr. Salazar and one to Mrs. Salazar. They peered at them for a second before passing them back to him.

"That's Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel," Mr. Salazar spoke, his accent as heavy as his wife's. "Why do you want to know if we know them?" he asked gruffly, peering at Roberts over the top of his glasses.

"We need to know, were they at the performance the past Saturday?" Michaels asked from the doorway, watching the two carefully. Mrs. Salazar turned her dark eyes towards him and stared for a bit before speaking.

"Yes. Blaine sang 'Teenage Dream' to Kurt. It was very sweet," she smiled widely, "I've always told my husband here the two would get together. Nothing wrong with that, I'd say, as long as they love each other, don't you agree?" Michaels and Roberts nodded, both thinking even if they didn't they'd be foolish to say so in front of this odd old woman.

"Thank you. That's all we needed to know." They shook hands with the both before leaving the room, sharing incredulous looks and immediately breaking out in hurried whispers, no doubt speaking of their sheer disbelief at two more glee kids being cleared in the attack. It would appear that David Karofsky either had more enemies, or, an idea that neither men wanted to admit for the sheer seemingly idiocy of the belief, that his only enemies were great liars.

* * *

><p>Mrs. Salazar waited until she had heard the two men's footsteps faded into the background noises before sharing a knowing smirk with her husband. "Maaari kang lumabas ngayon, aking anak." She stated cheerfully at the closet. Blaine emerged, smiling brightly at the two. He walked across the room and pulled both into a large hug.<p>

"Salamat sa iyo lola, lolo," he addressed the two once he'd pulled away. Mr. Salazar brushed the hair from his eyes and smiled ruefully.

"Ito ay hindi isang problema. Salazars amin may sa magkadikit. Na bobo boy marapat ito." Blaine laughed and hugged him again. He kissed Mrs. Salazar on the cheek before straightening up again.

"Kailangan kong pumunta. Ibig ko sa inyo."

"Mahal ko kayo masyadong." They spoke in unison, dragging him down, laughing, for one last hug before he made his way out of the room. He smiled and waved at Doreen who grinned back and winked knowingly; he greeted the chattering ladies in the living room where one told him quite frankly 'hope your grandparents gave them suits hell' that had him laughing on his way out the door and into his car.

He set it in reverse and drove slowly out of the driveway. As he made his way down the freeway to pick up Kurt, all he could think was how ridiculously easy it was to fool the policemen. He'd felt guilty for a moment before remembering why they were doing this and shoved the guilt away. If anyone deserved this, it was David Karofsky.

* * *

><p>Translations were done with Google Translate so I have no idea how well they are. It's Filipino which I thought I'd use since Darren Criss is half Filipino, half Irish:<p>

Maaari kang lumabas ngayon, aking anak – You can come out now, my son.

Salamat sa iyo lola, lolo – Thank you grandmother, grandfather.

Ito ay hindi isang problema. Salazars amin may sa magkadikit. Na bobo boy marapat ito – It wasn't a problem, Us Salazars have to stick together. That stupid boy deserved it.

Kailangan kong pumunta. Ibig ko sa inyo - I have to go, I love you.

Mahal ko kayo masyadong. – I love you too.

Anyway, this (oddly enough) ended up being the longest chapter so far. I just want to clear up for any of you that thought Rachel was a little too well, it's been about two weeks since she woke, so I figured she would be okay like she was. She hasn't had the leg or rib surgery yet, because they are looking for a proper match. I'm sorry but as it was a chapter that featured Harry Freakin' Potter, I figured that the odd little HP references (and the actual inclusion of said books) was entirely necessary. I hope you enjoyed and... Until next time!


	9. Chapter 9

Roberts carefully made his way back to the car, holding the piping hot coffee at a carefully balanced angle to ensure limited spilling. It was the perfect plan for a man who spent the majority of his mornings swiftly changing shirts due to coffee stains. The door, however, he had not factored in. It was closed, mocking him in its sleek black shades. He bit back a curse and carefully maneuvered one of the cheap Styrofoam cups from the full of his hand to a three finger grip clutched tightly to his chest and tried in vain to jerk the door handle open with two fingers.

Finally, after many failed half-openings he opened the door with such an unwarranted flourish that half the coffee cup spilled down his front. Fuming slightly he slid into the passenger seat next to Michaels. If his partner had actually noticed him, he showed no sign of it. Instead, he was staring vacantly into the distance as if seeing something only he could notice.

Roberts could feel his anger evaporating as concern filtered through. He had seen that expression before plenty of times, and it had never boded well. "Hey," he watched as Michaels practically jumped before turning to look in his partner. Roberts could see him try to bite back a smile as he took in his waterlogged appearance. He reminded himself that Michaels was having a hard time and that was all that stopped the anger from returning.

"You okay?"

Michaels just turned away and stared back at the window for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was kept as neutral as possible without seeming completely indifferent. "Who are we checking today?" He didn't know why he wouldn't confide in Roberts with this, Roberts was and had been since their teenage days, his best friend but whenever he brought himself to talk, to explain how he couldn't sleep because his son, as bloody and battered as the day he died, was no longer the only shadowed human that followed him in the realms of subconscious.

Now, as he twisted and turned along the well-beaten paths his nightmares brought him, he was not only escaping the horrors of his past, but of the present. A small, badly beaten girl followed him. She conveyed no words, in fact she always appeared mute, but her eyes, wide doe eyes the color of melted chocolate, conveyed all of her problems. She always seemed to wish to tell him something and her eyes pleaded with some invisible God that he would understand.

They were different from his son's, cold and accusing twirled with hopefulness and tragedy in a sort of never-ending heartbreaking dance. He woke every night drenched in cold sweat and tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn't explain about how even in the daytime, those terrified brown eyes seemed to follow him, to accuse him of helping a monster. He couldn't explain it, so he didn't.

Instead he pulled from the person who had best understood him his entire life and delved back into a 'safe area'. "Whose alibis are we checking out today?" he asked again, pulling the car out of the parking lot and hesitating just before the turn out. He saw from the corner of his eye (he point blank refused to stare him straight in the eye) Roberts shuffle through some papers.

"We need to question the last one David Karofsky accused, Noah Puckerman." Michaels nodded, "If you turn right here and carry on down until you reach Robin Way, and then turn left onto Dudley Road. The address is 420." Michaels looked at him, obviously confused. A boy with a track record like Noah Puckerman just simply did not leave in that part of town. "I called his mother earlier and she said he was spending the day with his girlfriend Quinn Fabray." He explained as Michaels pulled from the parking lot.

"Let me guess, another glee club member?" Roberts nodded and Michaels swore under his breath. This damned glee club was going to be the death of him, by guilt of helping the man who'd been accused of sending one of their members to their own long term visit to the hospital or by the sheer knowledge that they'd done it and having absolutely no proof.

Roberts watched through worried eyes as his partner seemed to tear himself apart all over again. If he'd known that this case would affect the man so badly, he would have never accepted the case. To say he was worried would be the biggest understatement of his life. Michaels was closing in on himself, he wasn't speaking to people that could help him. Roberts was worried his partner was going to do something stupid.

* * *

><p>Rachel was laying by herself in one of the truly rare moments he had gotten alone. It perhaps, could very well have been the only time since her accident someone hadn't been by her side. It was odd, but slightly comforting at the same time. The others had been worried, not unwarranted, at how she would take her accident. She herself could admit to being rather surprised at what she felt about the whole thing.<p>

If she were honest with herself, she could say that she expected to be angry. That revulsion and hatred for her attacker would real about inside her as she mutely lamented her anguish at why this had happened to her. She wasn't fond of not speaking; it was heartbreaking to her that she wasn't able to communicate even the simplest of statements to her family, but no anger was found there.

She was tired of hurting from every inch of her body, that laughing caused pains to shoot sharply from her to the point where she was gasping for breath in hopes of reprieve. She was sick of not being able to walk or even leave her bed with being confined into a wheelchair. She was tired of not being able to pick anything up or brush hair from her face without some sort of pain. Still, no matter how hard she sought it, from the very dredges of her own body, she tried to find the anger and couldn't.

Looking back, thinking of Karofsky, there was no anger or hatred, but pity. She was sorry for the man who had broken himself so far beyond repair that he couldn't find all the pieces. She cried, in this time she had alone, for the scared little boy that couldn't admit who he was. She was filled with sorrow for him, this man who'd tortured her friends and hurt her. The tears spilt from her cheeks as she worried about horrors unfolding on to him.

Without it willing to, consciously or subconsciously, her mind drifted back to that day the police had come. She had been terrified of police from a young age, ever since some had come when she was four, barely old enough to remember, and taken her from home. Some people had filed charges against her fathers for abuse and she had been kept from home for almost a month before the police were forced to admit that it had merely been a 'precaution' because of the unique living arrangement Rachel was in.

She didn't believe them, Blaine or any of her other friends, when they told her they weren't involved with the attack on Karofsky. She wanted to; she wanted to trust them blindly, believe them incapable of such acts, but she knew. She knew the moment she had awoken to see every member of the club, vigil beside her death bed, and every day since, how protective they had gotten.

She heard the anger in their voices when they talked about him, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. So she worried. Worried that they'd done something irrevocable and incredibly stupid.

* * *

><p>David Karofsky Senior prided himself as an observant man. He knew when someone was ready to sell or buy depending solely on their body language. That's why the confusion he felt whenever he was around his youngest child was so shocking. It had become more pronounced after his attack.<p>

Obviously, he had expected some sort of withdrawal. The court mandated psychiatrist had told them that was the norm, but David's case seemed to go far and beyond the realm of normalcy. Every time he even mentioned the case, or catching who had done this atrocious crime to his son, David withdrew, and he didn't understand.

He pegged it on the rumors flying around, the ones saying his own son had been the one to push that girl down the stairs. He'd prided himself on not believing such rumors, so confident in how much he knew about his son, but even he had to admit the guilty looks he sometimes saw on his son's face whenever the girl's name had even come up, he was worried.

So when he found the full bottle of Vicaden never opened from the hospital in his son's room along with the furtive, almost guilty looks, he worried. He worried for something stupid his son might have done, but more so, as he sat in his chair awaiting his son's return, the bottle in front of him, he worried for something stupid his son might do.

* * *

><p>Thank you for all your reviews! I'm sorry for the botched Filipino and thank you for correcting me. If I ever use Blaine's grandparents again (I rather liked them) I will definitely ask for help from you guys instead! I was originally going to write this as Puck's alibi (his is my favorite I think) but it's rather late and that chapter was going to be long and I kind of wanted to tie some things in better so instead I gave an insight to Michaels and I tried to bring foreshadowing with Rachel's and David Senior's. I probably failed but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Until Next Time!<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry for the wait!

* * *

><p>Michaels pulled into the driveway of a large two story town house. It was of a nondescript tan color but the front garden seemed to be over-flowing with rich colors of roses, lilies, violets, and other flowers he knew not the name of. It was all very well kept, and created quite a pleasing affect to the house. Roberts, after he had finished changing out of the coffee stained shirt, joined him and they walked through the slightly winding stone pathway to the front door. The door was itself made of a rich, dark mahogany, two frosty glass windows with black lines swirling around them in amazingly intricate swirls. It screamed of wealth.<p>

With a gentle and slightly hesitant hand, Roberts knocked on the door, careful of the glass. They waited a few moments before hearing footsteps. Roberts, having partially expecting a maid or butler to answer, was surprised to see a middle-aged pleasant-looking woman answer. She was wearing a simple white dress with a light yellow cardigan over it, her hair tied back in a simple bun at the bottom of her head. She smiled beatifically at them, either ignorant to why they were there or simply not caring.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" she asked politely, smile not quite leaving her face as she stepped aside to allow them access to her home. The inside of the house was just as rich as the outside, warm colored wooden floors led them into it, a chandelier of cascading glass crystals casting the foyer with a warm and pleasing light. In front of them stood a swirling staircase and on either sides of them sat two rooms, one was closed off with double wooden doors with large glass panels and another was opened up to create a pleasing effect of an open layout.

She seemed unperturbed about their lack of response, instead leading them into the opened area of the house. It ended up being a living room of a surprisingly light and bright yellow color. It had none of the heavy feeling the foyer had but instead, the floor was a light wood paneling with a large white and black rug spread across, the couch and chairs were white with yellow pillows that matched the walls holding as accents. Black painted wooden side tables, a coffee table centered in the middle, and an entertainment center completed the look. Large bay windows allowed the pale yellow light of the morning to cross through the room.

"My daughter did it." The woman explained, gesturing for them to sit across from her. "After her father left, and she moved back in she wanted the house to have a more homely look. She's mostly finished the entire house now; the foyer is all that's left. She was supposed to start working on it a while ago but after that horrendous attack on her friend, she's been much to distracted." She smiled sadly.

"You, are you talking about the accident of Rachel Berry?" Roberts questioned, papers shuffling as he flipped over a few pages onto a fresh one. The woman bore down on him, her azure eyes seemingly penetrating him as she stared. He coughed uncomfortably and the woman started.

"Yes, it's rather odd actually. Before the accident Quinnie was rather indifferent to the girl, but after it all happened, she was so much warmer about her," she looked across at the both of them as she spoke.

"What do you mean? She just realized how much more she felt for Miss Berry?" Michaels knew it didn't really pertain to his case but from the way Mrs. Fabray spoke, it was as if something so much more than Rachel falling down the stairs had occurred. Mrs. Fabray laughed lightly.

"No, no. I'm afraid it didn't, but –" she cast them a look of polite bewilderment, "surely you know if it?" Roberts and Michaels looked at each other, both rather confused. "You don't?" her tone was surprised and her eyes had widened somewhat.

"Ma'am, all we know about the accident is from the principal of the school. He says that Miss Berry fell down one of the school's longer staircases after some sort of altercation with the football team. One of the Glee Club members later named David Karofsky as to blame but Principal Figgins assured us that the accusations were unfounded." Roberts explained almost nervously. Mrs. Fabray's eyebrows shot up.

"You seem to be missing some crucial information, sir." she stated quietly, "Rachel was pushed from the stairway after interceding in a vulgar hate crime against Brittany Pierce." She stated, her tone slightly cold as she regarded the two extremely surprised police officers.

"What type of crime was this?" Michaels demanded.

"Sexual. David Karofsky was assaulting her to the cheers of his fellow football players. Rachel intercedes, said some things that he didn't quite like, and when she turned to walk away with Brittany he pushed her down the stairs. None of the girls saw it coming." She finished, staring intently at the two shell-shocked men.

"Why have no charges been brought up?" Roberts asked as he was the first to overcome his shock.

"Rachel's been extensively injured. She can't even speak in full sentences any more, according to Quinn, and she was quite the eloquent speaker. She has been diagnosed with something called expressive aphasia which is called by a severe collision to the Broca. Not to mention the numerous surgeries she's had to go through." She ticked them off on her fingers as she spoke, "She had emergency surgery to remove loose bone chippings from around her lungs immediately upon entering the hospital, shoulder reconstruction and leg reconstruction including a bone graph. Why, she's in surgery today to replace the missing chips in her ribs."

"I-I didn't realize," Michaels said rather quietly. Roberts wasn't sure if he was speaking to him or to himself but his partner seemed too lost in thought for him to ask.

"I believe," Mrs. Fabray started, "that I have been rather courteous to you both and I would like if you now told me why you are here?" she posed it as a polite question but by the suddenly chilly tone and posed look of indifference, she was no longer as warm to them as she had been.

"Yes, we were told that your daughter's boyfriend, Noah Puckerman, would be here?"

"You've missed them." She stated calmly, "they left about an hour ago together, for the hospital. They and the glee club made plans to wait for Rachel's surgery to end together there. Why do you need him?" She asked them suspiciously, arms folded across her chest.

"Well, we need to question him about the attack of David Karofsky, but as he's not here, we will just be going. " Roberts spoke quickly and rather nervously as the look in Mrs. Fabray's face darkened considerably. He put a gentle but firm hand on Michaels and pulled him to his feet.

"I believe you can find your own way out?" Mrs. Fabray asked coolly, her eyes now the color of steel.

"Yes, thank you for your time ma'am," she nodded, lips pursed, her eyes following him as he made his way from the room, out the foyer, into the garden, down the path, and finally into the car. He and Michaels shared a look of deepest confusion.

"What was that about? Do you think she's right, that Karofsky did that?" Roberts asked almost fearfully. He could tell that the boy was homophobic and obviously from the complaints filed against him by the Hummels, not the kindest of people in the world, but to be capable of pushing someone down a flight of stairs in cold blood?

"I can believe it." Michaels stated darkly, eyes glaring holes into the steering wheel before him. "Ignorance and fear of something can bring out the worst of people. I know that well." Roberts winced at the man's tone, remembering all too well, the man's son, his godson's, demise. "It wasn't all of his creation either; it's become apparent that David Senior has also shown uncomfortableness around gays." At Robert's questioning look, he reached over and pulled out a slightly older file and tossed it at him.

Curiously, he opened the file and let out a soft intake of breath. Michaels watched with grim eyes as Roberts quickly glanced over the police report, his face darkening more at each sentence he read. Finally, he closed the file and threw it away with from him with evident disgust.

"I can't believe someone would do that! Just because they were gay?" Michaels nodded and Roberts let out a low string of curse words angrily. To take away a child from a family at that age, not because of any evident abuse or discomfort shown by the child, but because of having two fathers, it was wrong.

"I think," Michaels started the car and pulled from the house, "It's time to pay the Karofsky family a visit before we continue this investigation." He turned and headed east, intent on reaching the outskirts of the town and heaving a rather long discussion with David Karofsky and his father. It was going to be off the table.

* * *

><p>Finn paced the floor impatiently, awaiting any news. The rest of the group would have lectured him on making everyone else nervous but they were too worried themselves to do so. Rachel had been scheduled for surgery earlier this day and had gone under the knife, but that was hours ago and they were supposed to hear from the doctor or somebody by now and it was putting everyone on edge. They were told that out of all Rachel's procedures (excluding the initial one) this one was the most risky and by not hearing anything, they were all dreading the worse.<p>

A pale, dark haired nurse appeared and approached them quietly. She seemed most indifferent walking over and when she spoke it was in a monotonously bored voice. "You Rachel Berry's friends?" she asked, popping her gum. Finn nodded and immediately asked if there was any news. The girl rolled her eyes, "How would I know? I was just told to come get you," she rolled her eyes as if Finn was the biggest idiot she'd ever had to deal with. Puck and Brittany both immediately grabbed Santana to stop her from attacking the girl. As it was, she was angrily muttering things in Spanish that sounded most threatening.

They followed the woman onto the surgery floor and she led them into a room just off Rachel's surgery room. Mr. and Mr. Berry were already there, backs turned to them so they had no idea what they looked like. The woman left them, Santana still murmuring threats as she passed. She fell silent as the woman left the room but it was Finn who broke the silence first.

"Mr. and Mr. Berry? What's happened?" Finn spoke quietly and still neither man turned as if they hadn't heard the boy. Time ticked and the silence bore on. It was in this moment, the moment that the quiet peaked onto never reached heights that Finn felt a crashing realization. Something was horribly wrong; something had gone wrong in the surgery. He could already feel the tears fall even as the Berry's explained in hush, shaking tones.

"Something's gone wrong. The rib the doctors were working on splintered and a –" tears gushed from Hiram Berry's eyes and his voice broke off. He turned towards his husband and began crying into his chest earnestly. For several long and unbearable moments the glee club watched the man sob, tears falling down their own faces but no one bothered to acknowledge them.

"A piece of the rib cut through her lung's pleura causing a condition called 'pneumothorax' to happen. Basically it is a collection of air in the pleural cavity. For Rachel, it is extremely serious, her blood pressure dropped significantly and she nearly went into cardiac arrest again." Gasps, loud and horrifying, escaped from several people's lips as Leroy Berry spoke those words.

"They've placed an emergency chest tube in place to lower the amount of air going in but they've said that the state of Rachel's lung might mean that they have to use negative pressure suction, if air is still leaving after 3 days." Silence followed this announcement, then, in an extremely shaky that mirrored his hands swaying on either side of him, Finn spoke.

"Is it deadly? I mean, is Rachel going to be okay?" Hiram sobbed even harder into his husband's chest and Finn's heart dropped. Leroy looked at him with his dark eyes, unshed tears threatening to spill over as he surveyed the group of children before him. They all stared back at him with sad, yet hopeful eyes and his heart broke.

"We don't know yet." Finn felt his world break away at that moment, his heart dropping as he himself sank to his knees. The world spinned before him as the words reverberated around his head and tears blurred his vision beyond any distinction. _Rachel might not make it._ The world felt like such a cruel place, giving him back Rachel for two precious, amazing weeks just to take her and bring her on the brink of death, a breadth away from him and the world of living once again. His hand reached instinctively into his pocket and encircled the small, velvet covered box that sat there.

_I'm too late. _

* * *

><p>So, umm,you all probably seriously wish to kill me right now for creating yet another horrible enormity for Rachel and Finn and in precaution of this, I have constructed a small but useful list on why stalking where I leave and murdering me in my sleep (probably in some cruel twist of irony of pushing me down stair or something)<p>

1. I really didn't mean for it to happen. I was seriously going to write about bad-ass Puck and suave yet bitchy Quinn powning out an awesome alibi to the cops but when I sat down, I wrote this.

2. It's created a plot for this story. I never really had one, but I had a bunch of different ideas that I wanted to carry out at some point but had no deciding factor in which to use and now this has created an area in to which I can encase all of these ideas without having an over-active plot.

3. It's more realistic. She's not getting a miracle recovery (obviously) which a lot of you were complaining about *am now hiding as you people read how I am twisting your words in some sort of twisted irony*

4. If I die, you don't get to figure out what happens next. Does she live? Does she die? If you kill me you can never find out as I am a sporadic and totally unorganized writer and have rarely if ever written a single word on a word document unless I've planned on updating that day. I mostly update two to three days apart.

5. You all love me too much to resort to horrific violence.

I am also slightly hyper at this moment so sorry. I'll update soon and I promise you get to find out if Rachel lives or dies in the next chapter! Until Next Time!

*now runs and hides*


	11. Chapter 11

Blaine whistled softly to himself as he gently placed the bouquet of white and yellow roses in the passenger seat of his car. He had late practice with the Warblers for the graduation ceremony in a weeks' time and couldn't arrive in time with the others. He was rather excited though, this was the last surgery for Rachel and after the mandatory bed rest time, she'll be ready to spend the rest of her time healing. Doctor Lopez had explained to them that if all went well Rachel could be expected to be released from the hospital shortly before her junior year began with minimal damage.

Blaine slid into the driver's seat, turned his radio on (only Broadway classics, for Rachel) and sang along with Idina Menzel to 'I'm Not That Girl' from Wicked as he made his way to the hospital. He was just at the y-intersect – one way would take him to the older houses that lay on the outskirts of town, the other to Main Street, where the hospital was located. Before he could turn onto Main Street, his phone rang, 'Teenage Dream' mixing in with Idina Menzel's soft but powerful voice. He turned the volume down and answered the phone.

"Hey babe," he answered cheerfully, moving to the side to allow the build-up of cars to pass as he spoke. He thought that Kurt would be calling to inform him that Rachel was finally out of surgery and they had all migrated into the recovery room already or something of the sort

"B-Blaine," Kurt's voice, quiet and broken, sent shivers down his spine.

"What's wrong?" his fingers clutched tightly onto the wheel, clammy and pale, the knuckles pulled the skin taunt over them as he shivered in fear. Something was wrong. Something went wrong with Rachel; the thoughts wouldn't leave him, hundreds rolled through his head, each worse than the last, in the seconds' pause it took for Kurt to steel himself and answer his question.

"During R-Rachel's surgery, a b-bone shattered and p-p-part of it, p-part of it punctured her lung…" Kurt's trailed off and Blaine could hear the stifled cries and felt the tears through the phone as they poured down both of their faces. Thoughts, horrible and cruel, flew through his mind as he grasped desperately to his last hope.

"She's okay, s-she's going to be okay right?" Silence. "Kurt! She's okay, right?" His heart beat irregularly as he clutched onto the phone, trying in vain to catch hold of his ragged breathing as 'I'm Not That Girl' slowly fell away to 'Don't Rain on My Parade'. "Kurt…" he whispered desperately, "Please…" he begged as tears, warm and salty to the taste, fell down his tanned skin and splattered onto his fists.

"B-Blaine," Kurt's voice was remorseful, full of sadness and regret and Blaine could feel the tears as they spilled from his boyfriend's eyes, no doubt the light, pure silver they turned in sadness. That one word, his name, carried so much across. Blaine broke. The tears fell faster as his breath caught in his throat and he struggled to get his lungs to expand, just as Rachel's stopped. She was gone, just like that.

Two weeks, two weeks of healing: of laughter and joy, of determination and will-power, teasing and love, the memories flashed through his mind; Rachel struggling to read Harry Potter, laughing that beautiful chiming laugh as Blaine quoted from heart; him delving into his bag to produce such snacks that Kurt would no doubt cringe at; her grudgingly admitting her enjoyment of the series to convince him to leave it with her for the night, him, on the final day of her life – the day before her surgery, hugging her and reassuring her she would be just fine.

Barely feel a thing, he had told her before brushing his lips against her cheek and wishing her a good night. He didn't say goodbye; he never said goodbye. Now, the words he spoke haunted him, mocking him in their insignificant, generic tones. Why hadn't he stayed with her, at least for those final, precious moments and told her how close she had become to him; how like a sister she felt. For now, now it was too late, Rachel was gone and she wasn't coming back.

He looked at the turn-off, not the right one, the one that would take him to the hospital where all that would greet him was the cold body of a girl long gone, but to the other side, the ones that led to the outskirts of Lima. Blaine knew well, the location of Karofsky's home; how many nights had they, all in different cars, spent scouting his house, learning the comings and goings of the family to ensure safe access?

How simple would it be to drive over there and allow some of his grief to leave by taking it out on that bastard? Or should continue as planned and place the roses on Rachel's body before they dragged it off to the morgue where it would lie, God knows how long, until all the secrets had been drained from it and it was returned to her fathers for burial?

He made the decision within seconds, pressing end call on his phone and turning it off; he didn't want to speak to anyone at the moment, before pulling back onto the road and turning onto the left road; he wanted to make that bastard Karofsky pay, make him just a fraction of the pain Rachel felt in the two last weeks of her short life. He wanted him to writhe underneath and beg for mercy as he continued to hurt him; he wanted to hit him until he simply passed out from the sheer pain. Then, showing more kindness than Karofsky ever did to Rachel, he would leave him there, still taking in the air that he had ripped from Rachel's own lungs.

He would make that fucking bastard pay, and he didn't care how he did it.

* * *

><p>He pulled onto the front parking lot, not even bothering to hide his car from view; dimly, a part of his brain registered that a police car was there and maybe, just maybe what he was doing was wrong, that he should turn back and continue to the hospital, but then, a greater portion, one that spoke in an angry, torn voice, reminded him all he would find was a motionless body and that her murderer was in this house before him and the police cared just as much as that bastard did.<p>

He could barely remember walking up the path to the house, or even flinging the unlocked front door open. He didn't remember hearing Karofsky's mother scream as he stormed into their living room, tear-stained face distorted in inhuman anger, fists clenched tightly by his sides. He didn't remember Karofsky Senior yelling at him angrily or Officer Michaels and Officer Roberts jumping to their feet, obviously alarmed.

His eyes were drawn solely onto David Karofsky, who stared at him through terrified eyes, his face pale and gaunt in the light of the room. "You murdering bastard!" he'd whispered harshly, the words carrying through the silent room as he drew his fist back. With a resounding smacking sound and sharp pain shooting through his hand, his fist made contact with Karofsky's face and he staggered back a few steps, clutching it tightly.

He felt arms slide around his waist, pulling, forcing him from Karofsky. He struggled and lost it all completely. "LET GO! HE DESERVES IT! HE KILLED HER! HE FUCKING KILLED HER!" He screamed, tears falling down as he dug into the arms around him, struggling to rip them from his body. All the nerves in his body screamed for Karofsky's blood, for him to rip him to pieces, to beat him until nothing was left.

"Lies!" he heard Karofsky Senior scream, his eyes popping and vein throbbing in his anger, "My son would never!" Blaine could feel laughter bubbling, hot and angry and as it fell from his lips even he could hear the frightening, mad tone it carried.

"He did! He killed her and he doesn't even give a damn!" His piercing hazel eyes bore into Karofsky as he spoke, still struggling against the man holding him. Karofsky, for his part, looked terrified. His brown eyes were wide in fear and his skin was pale and clammy. Blaine stopped fighting and stared into his eyes. "You got your wish; she's gone. Rachel Berry's dead and she's not coming back." The words pierced his throat as he spat them out, tears blurring his vision.

He could feel the arms slacking around his waist as the words sunk into everyone's mind but he didn't try to attack Karofsky again. His body felt drained, as if the little spurt of anger had left him with no energy and when, with a surprisingly gentle hand and a soft 'Come on son, let's get you out of here' he numbly followed, his body feeling hollow. At the threshold of the room, without even looking back although he could feel all the eyes on him, in barely a whisper, he spoke; "I hope your happy, David, I really do." With that, he left along with the two police officers and never looked back.

The silence that followed was deafening, and David felt all warmth drain from his body. Blaine's words rebounded throughout him, screaming as though he was still there and he struggled to remain on his feet. He looked at his mother's face, stricken with fear and worry as she saw his eyes, and then to his father, whose own face was contorted in ill-disguised anger at Blaine and the police officers; he felt like laughing as he bitterly thought how the anger should have been directed at him, this horrid monster his son was.

He turned without a word, up the stairs and into his room, locking the door behind him before finally succumbing to his tears. They raked through him loudly and he didn't bother to hide them. Rachel Berry was dead. He'd killed a person, and for what? Because he was too afraid of whom he was. Of what his father would say if he realized the truth of his son, that he was a dirty faggot just like the rest of the sinning freaks.

He shakingly got to his feet and crashed into the dresser, his hands grasping for the tiny yellow bottle that lay on the top. He'd promised his father he'd start taking them, that in all the commotion of the case, he'd simply forgotten. Now, in the wake of this announcement, in the wake of the death of an innocent, amazing, beautiful young girl with the brightest future, he did wish to forget. He poured the little round pills into his hand before pouring them in his mouth, tipping his head to swallow them all with relative ease.

He had enough time to lie on the bed and close his eyes before unconscious fell on him. He could hear, dimly, as if miles separated him from them, his father and mother banging on the door, yelling at him to open it. He could hear his brother kicking it, desperately trying to break it down. _I'm sorry, _he thought and he didn't know who it was for, for Rachel, already dead and gone, for his parents' who were about to lose a son, or maybe to himself, for being too cowardly to admit what he was.

He was dimly away of the door smashing open, his family banging in, of his mother screaming as she saw the few remaining pills, scattered across the floor and the little yellow bottle still clasped tightly in his hand, of his brother running to get the phone to call for help. The next thing he remembered, before an exquisite, serene darkness fell over him, was his father's large, warm hand clasping itself over his cold one, gently prying his fingers from the bottle and whispering fiercely to stay with him

_I'm sorry, _he thought again, this time no doubt who it was directed at, before allowing himself to fall, to slip into the cool but inviting darkness that surrounded him.

* * *

><p>Oh. My. God. I can't believe I wrote that. I actually feel really bad about writing this but I always thought that David Karofsky had a conscience and I don't think anyone could handle being responsible for someone dying. If you totally want to hate me now, totally understood but I really needed Karofsky to be understood, and this insight helped it happen. I will update soon.<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

Kurt stared at his phone, tears still falling from his eyes, as worry started to set in. He pressed re-dial and held his phone to his ear, begging silently for Blaine to pick up. Voicemail. He tried again, voicemail. Now worry turned to panic as he tried a fourth time. Blaine's overly cheerful voice filtered through the phone and he bit back a cry. He'd been trying for the better part of an hour to get a hold of his boyfriend since their initial call and he was desperate to straighten out his grave mistake.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Mercedes, uncharacteristically quiet, spoke from the chair besides him. Kurt looked at her; her face, normally alight with a cheerful glow, was drained and tearstains marked parallel lines down either cheek. Her make-up, normally drawn and re-drawn to perfection was smudged and runny and her eyes were red and puffy, partially from exhaustion. She sat with a coffee in her hand, determined as he and Finn were, to stay up until more news could be heard.

She had been gone when he spoke with Blaine; he stared down at his phone, clenched tightly in his pale hand. He began to speak, explaining in detail what he had said to Blaine. He confessed his worries to her, about any misconceptions Blaine could have had when they spoke. He felt the weight of the day just bear down on him and he found himself crying, cursing inwardly for his lack of constraint.

"And n-now he's not a-answering his p-phone and I'm t-terrified he might have d-done something s-stupid!" Mercedes, in a split second's decision, set her coffee on the chair beside her and gently wrapped her arms around the boy, soothingly rubbing circles in his back as he cried into her shoulder. It was several minutes before Kurt pulled away from her, covertly wiping his eyes, cheeks stained pink in embarrassment and she spoke.

"Listen, I'll try to get a hold of the Warblers and see if they've seen him. He probably went back there to cool down. I can understand your concern, but Blaine's smart, he wouldn't just jump to conclusions like that." She gently kissed the top of Kurt's head and made her way out of earshot, settling by the reception desk before pulling out her cellphone. Truth be told, after seeing how close Blaine and Rachel had gotten and with Blaine's track record of reading too far into things, she wasn't as sure as she pertained to be for Kurt.

She'd been just about to dial Wes (if anyone knew of Blaine's whereabouts, it would have to be the head Warbler) before a small crowd of people quickly slid into the room and she nearly dropped her phone in shock. The Karofsky's, minus David Junior, had made their way into the room. She ducked on the other side of the desk and watched through treacherous eyes as they spoke in rushed, carrying whispers to the nurse.

"My son, David Karofsky, he was brought here by ambulance! We need to see him!" Mrs. Karofsky's voice rose in her panic, tears fighting to escape from her bright blue eyes. She didn't understand this, why would her son do this? She was shaking uncontrollably as she waited for the nurse to pull out some records.

"I'm sorry ma'am," she said finally, "you are unable to see your son at this moment. He's in the process of getting his stomach pumped. He's swallowed a whole bottle of pain-killers and it's looking quite serious." Mercedes could feel her eyes widen as she watched as Mrs. Karofsky started balling into her husband's chest and he held her close, his own grief etched into his face. His son stood stonily beside him, too shocked for words. Mercedes made a rather rash decision.

Stepping carefully in front of the group before they managed to sit, she addressed David Senior. "Mr. Karofsky? I'm Mercedes Jones, I go to school with your son and I couldn't help but hear what you were talking about. What's happened with David?" David Senior stared at her for several moments before speaking, grief turning into anger as he did so.

"That freak of nature Rachel Berry's death did it. This unruly brat of a child stormed into our home and accused my poor son of her murder. David's been dealing with all those horrible rumors of him pushing her and this was just the icing on the cake. He couldn't take any more of those horrid, false accusations and tried to commit suicide." He ignored his gut wrenching at his blatant lie. He had little doubt of David's responsibility in Rachel's accident now.

Mercedes flushed an angry dark red and as she spoke, her loud tone drove the glee club's attention to her. "I beg your pardon sir, Rachel's not dead. She's suffered a major drawback in her recovery due to a bone puncturing her lung but she's yet to die, and those rumors are true. Your bastard son pushed my friend down the stairs for no reason."

She glared dangerously at the man, daring him to contradict her, "I saw him myself, on the top of the stairs, before his friends dragged him away." All the eyes were drawn onto her and neither noticed as several people, three from the main entrance to the hospital and one from the emergency room entered into the room.

Blaine heard her speak, the words casting a warm glow of hope onto him as he stepped in to the room, Rachel was still alive, still fighting. Relief flew through him and he quickly disentangled himself from the police officers and made his way to his boyfriend, who himself was staring transfixed in the middle of the room, at Mercedes and the Karofskys. He wrapped his arms around him and held him, breathing deeply in relief.

Michaels and Roberts shared dubious looks of disbelief. It seemed the more they delved into the mysterious accident, the less it seemed like an accident. With no doubt in their minds, David Karofsky was guilty and from the look, part grief and part shame, on David Karofsky Senior's face, he knew it too.

"Umm… Mr. and Mrs. Karofsky? I'm here to speak to you about your son?" Doctor Lopez spoke hesitantly in the room, breaking the thick tension tentatively.

"Yes?" Mrs. Karofsky rounded around immediately, her husband following her lead more slowly, and stared intently at the doctor. She inwardly prayed for good news. Doctor Lopez made a curt nod towards the doorway, but she shook her head. She didn't care if these people heard, she wanted information.

"Your son's stomach has been pumped, " Doctor Lopez began after a moment's hesitation, "and he's fine. A few days in the hospital and he can be released. However, due to the certain circumstances as to why he's ended up at the hospital, he will have to have a pysch evaluation and it would probably be best if he stayed in rehabilitation center until a doctor there decides he's no longer a danger to himself." Mrs. Karofsky cried in relief, hugging her husband and son exuberantly. She dragged them away from the other people, following a nurse to her son's room. She hardly cared at the moment, what those other people wanted.

She didn't care why her son did it, that was for later. She didn't care that the doctor seemed none too relieved or enthusiastic, or that the police officers had shot her husband a disgusted look as he passed by. She didn't care about her husband's hesitancy before entering her son's hospital room. All she cared about, in this moment, was that it wasn't too late for her son.

* * *

><p>Michaels and Roberts, after the Karofsky's left, immediately walked towards the Berrys. After finding out that the last two glee club members, Puck and Quinn, were at the Berry's house going through old pictures of Rachel, they dropped Karofsky's case. The only suspects all had alibis, they were safe and for now, the case was closed.<p>

They conversed for a while, and after some heavy pushing by Leroy, agreed to look into Rachel's case against David Karofsky. They left silently, Michaels slowly following Roberts through the darkened parking lot. There was no doubt that David was guilty, but still something nagged in the back of his mind. Why had he targeted Rachel? Why did he hurt her? There had to be something more to it.

"What's wrong?" Roberts asked as he ushered Michaels into the passenger seat, wisely refusing to allow him to drive. He could see from Michaels far-away, troubled look, that he was thinking about something rather hard.

Michaels didn't speak for several more moments, "I – do you get the feeling that something's till missing? I mean, what's David's motive? Why did he do it?" Roberts pondered for a moment, pulling from the lot carefully, he didn't want to admit it, but those thoughts troubled him as well. From Karofsky's past record, he didn't target someone that viciously just for having gay fathers, it wasn't his MO. He targeted weaker targets, true, but they were gay, he didn't target someone just for knowing gays.

There was something more, either on Rachel's part or David's and the two were determined to figure out what. Their entire case now depended on it.

* * *

><p>Short and definitely not my favorite chapter but I think it clears up some things as well as slightly foreshadows on some more things to come. Just to clear it up Rachel IS NOT dead. Blaine merely over-reacted to Kurt's call about Rachel's relapse. I thought of putting a bit of that in last chapter, but it didn't really stick in with the vibe of last chapter, so I didn't. The story's been quite angsty but don't worry, somewhat fluffy stuff will appear. Fake cookies to who can guess what? Until Next Time!<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

_~One Week Later~_

The news of the attempted suicide of David Karofsky flew through the town. Many were shocked that such a promising young boy with a strong prowess on the football field and a prominent family would try something of the sort. Quite a few blamed those horrid rumors that floated around, encouraged greatly by David Karofsky Senior, but still, whispers floated through, a thought always followed by a grimace. Maybe, just maybe, the boy had played a hand in the accident of that Berry girl, and maybe, just maybe, had dealt himself in to assuage the grief he'd felt.

These whispered thoughts, traded in quiet by gossiping soccer moms in the magazine end of the grocery stores or in the salons, over reception desks at doctor's offices around the county, at the city pool by over-eager teenagers, floated about the town, infecting the residents with a sense of mad fury. People took sides, some in favor of the bright young girl with the – to say delicately – _unusual _upbringing, most in favor of the lively boy who came from an upstanding parentage.

The groups grew more vicious as the police department made a public announcement they there were taking an interest in the past goings of the McKinley school. They announced several important 'cover-ups' having been done by the principal of the school, Mister Iqbal Figgins, who was principal for nineteen coming onto twenty years at McKinley. The ongoing investigation had been announced in correlation to the cover-up of the expulsion of David Karofsky administered by interim principal Sue Sylvester in the past November.

The school had issued a no comment stance on the subject and had admitted that upon the following school year, both Principal Figgins and David Karofsky would be welcomed with open arms if they wished so. The school board maintained that David Karofsky had been found innocent in both incidents and that the police department had no right in interfering with its decisions. They also stated, with their many fans agreeing, that the police should be more interested in the home invasion attack on David Karofsky and the supposed 'questionable and rather sinister facts' shrouding the boy's suicide attempt.

The police department maintained that no further evidence besides that that was already disputed had been brought up in the home invasion case and any and all people of interest had alibis on the day of the attack. They gave no further information, including the people of interest, to the public, and further inquired the school as to what evidence they had chosen not to disclose.

The two sides had since forth swept from small town gossip to big time news, some reporters from big time companies coming to interview members of the glee club and the Karofsky family. The case had appeared on the Ohio News in which the reporter spoke of 'incompetent leadership' over the school and urged people to sympathize with Rachel Berry rather than blame. The story appeared in magazines and big time newspapers as a result of Hiram and Leroy Berry working alongside Judy Fabray in getting the story published.

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><p>"<em>The world needs to hear of the horrid ways school boards are taking an over-advantage over the schools. The government needs to be involved in the cases of abuse against gay children in the school systems. The blind eye the Lima School District Advisor takes to such sensitive cases as of Kurt Hummel (a gay student who spoke up about being forced to leave the school after nothing being done with threats to his life), Brittany Pierce (a young girl who had recently come out as 'bi-curious' and begun to date fellow student Santana Lopez and who filed charges against Karofsky Junior of sexual assault) and Rachel Berry (the young and beautiful daughter of Hiram and Leroy Berry), who had been attacked after protecting Miss Pierce from David Karofsky's unwanted assault.<em>

'_He pushed me against the wall and started touching me. He grabbed my hips and traveled down to my ass as he spoke. I tried to leave but he started talking about my girlfriend being a whore and me being a dyke.' Spoke Miss Pierce outside her Lima home, her mother and father beside her. _

'_My daughter isn't the only one who's been hurt by this boy, he regularly targets the gay and bi-sexual students at McKinley, sometimes in small ways, sometimes in large. He's taught other students at the school that this behavior is not only acceptable, but actually encouraged. If the school board doesn't do anything about it, more cases such as my daughters or Kurt Hummel's or even Rachel Berry's will occur.' Mr. Pierce stated before gently disengaging himself and his family from the interview._

_And he's right, this reporter found out. With further investigation to the school, it has been discovered the many other things had been slid under the bleachers, so to speak. A blog made by Jewish-American student Jacob Ben-Israel, has stories circulating around with titles such as 'Glee Clubs Big Gay Summer', 'Noah Puckerman Turning Gay for Kurt Hummel', 'Santana Lopez: A Closeted Lesbian?' in which he not only uses vulgar language to describe not only said students, but gays in general. _

_Several videos posted show them condoning violence against the students found out to be gay ranging from throwing slushies at some and using vulgar language, to video collages of various members of the football team pushing, shoving, throwing things at, insulting, beating, and other sickening acts of ignorance and violence. What further incriminates the school board are the many staff members who walk by without doing anything._

_In a fact this reporter finds disturbing, only a handful of teachers have even bothered to try to help the students or even agreed to these investigations. School Choir Director, William Schuester has provided several stories of abuse against his students especially, Cheer Coach and former Interim Principal, Sue Sylvester had, during her short reign over the school, implemented several anti-bully campaigns before resigning due to 'incompetence in the school board', Football Coach, Sharon Beiste, stated how the amount of indifference supplied by the school board about the attacks disturbed her and the School Guidance Counselor, Emma Pillsberry-Howell spoke of the many times she's had to give help to students too afraid of coming to the school in fear of attacks._

_All through this, the Karofsky family has maintained the stance of the youngest's innocence, even going so far as to accuse the boyfriend of Kurt Hummel, son of a prominent lawyer, Blaine Anderson, as having a hand in their son's suicide attempt._

"_That boy broke into our home and attacked our son for no reason, screaming that he'd killed a girl. We are sorrowful for the girl's accident but that remains what it is – an accident. This whole investigation is ludicrous.' David Karofsky Senior said. He went further on to say that the police should be investigating serious crimes, such as the break-in and attack on his son shortly before his suicide attempt instead of wasting time on a story that would 'eventually pan out into a clumsy girl's miss-step. _

_Stories, however, have emerged to further incriminate the Karofsky family. As it turns out, David Karofsky Senior had found himself in some hot water about twelve years prior to this incident for falsifying complaints of child abuse against Rachel Berry's parents in which he later recanted by saying he had found the family to be 'quite irregular and alarming'. Whether or not this past discrimination had played a hand in David Karofsky Junior's apparent hatred of gays has yet to be confirmed._

_Neither Rachel Berry or David Karofsky Junior had been available for comment." _Kurt finished reading, setting the magazine down in front of him and turning to gauge the reactions of the people in the room. He had been rather nervous about this article as it brought to light things he had rather forgotten but thought, for all extensive purposes, it hadn't been so bad.

"Wow. It's like a real life Rita Skeeter." Kurt couldn't help but roll his eyes at the statement, glaring half-heartedly at his boyfriend as Rachel beside him strangled a laugh. Leave it to Blaine to take a serious moment and turn it into a nerd convention. He hid a smile as the slightly awkward tension in the room diffused as Santana rolled her eyes and lightly smacked Blaine and Brittany asked confusedly if Blaine was Harry Potter.

Rachel's lung had ended up being less serious than the doctor's had originally presumed, and she, while not being where she was before the scare, was once again on the way to recovery. She had even recently (as of yesterday) begun being allowed to use crutches instead of a wheel-chair for simple movements around her hospital room.

The room itself, no longer looked much like a hospital room. Being a long-term patient as well as being close friends (i.e. protected beyond normalcy) with the doctor's daughter allowed for certain changes to be done in the room. Pictures adorned the walls, some from before Rachel's attack, most from after. A picture of Blaine and Rachel reading Harry Potter sat plastered above her bed, both giggling incessantly at whatever had happened, a picture of a sleeping Kurt and Rachel, fashion magazine laying abandoned besides them, sat next to it.

Other pictures of smiling friends, hugging Rachel or watching movies together, one of Mike dancing to some past song, adorned all around, plastered against the white of the walls. Flowers and stuffed animals, typical things given to people in hospitals sat here and there, all given by sympathizers. It was rather home-like and Rachel seemed happy.

"Hey guys," Finn's voice from the doorway, hesitant and rather unsure sounding, woke Kurt from his reverie and they all turned toward the doorway. "Can – um – can I have a few minutes alone with Rachel please?" he was nervous and fidgety, continually grasping at some unseen object in his pocket. Santana made some throaty noise that hinted at refusal but with a quick glance at Rachel's hopeful face and she'd grabbed Brittany's hand and left the room, closely followed by a curious Blaine and Kurt.

"Yes?" Rachel's voice was breathy, but the simple word was perfectly enounced and she had such a pleased look about her that she could say it that Finn felt his face cracking into a smile that she herself returned; he was nervous about this, he knew he had hurt Rachel a lot in the past and he wouldn't be surprised if she hated him but she didn't and their relationship, started anew after Finn and Quinn had separated after Finn admitted to still loving Rachel the first night at the hospital, while tentative, had been going well.

Finn grasped his hand once more around the small box in his pocket and taking courage from it, stepped forward and took her small hand in his. He reveled at the beautiful chocolate brown eyes staring back at him and in the small, beautiful smile that stretched across her soft pink lips, the one that seemed to make her eyes shine and sparkle.

Finn didn't say anything for a moment and neither did Rachel. They were content at the quiet, shared moment. Memories started to sprout from his subconscious, the time he met Rachel, their first kiss, their bowling alley date, Rachel slapping him for using her, Rachel telling him what Quinn and Puck had done, Finn leaving her to 'find his inner rock-star', Rachel dating Jesse, Finn telling her he loved her for the first time, all memories of them, good and bad, swirled around and he smiled, truly and happily, as he thought of memories they will make, future memories that will come.

"Rachel," he breathed her name quietly, using his left hand to grasp for the box in his pocket instead of dropping hers to use his right. He pulled out the small box and saw Rachel's eyes widen. He held the box gently as the memory of his mother giving him the ring and the story behind it swelled forward. He and Rachel, they would have all the time in the world now, forever, if she let them.

As long as she let them, they could and would take on the world together.

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><p>Originally, this chapter was going to be all of what happened at the end, but I needed a beginning and I ended up writing all about the reactions to the case, and then that article. I know it was probably pretty bad but it was the first time I'd ever tried to write something like that, and to be honest, most articles I ever read that come close to similar to this one was the Rita Skeeter ones and others in Harry Potter, so forgive me that. Next chapter will be more depth for Finn and Rachel, including the memory of his mom giving him the ring (I have had that entire little side story playing in my mind for forever) and the whole chapter (hopefully) will be a cute fluffy relief from the over-all angst feeling of the story. Because every story should have something like that. I still believe that was the whole purpose of Harry's fail at dating in the fifth book of HP. Any way, I liked this chapter, I hope you liked this chapter, I look forward to writing the next chapter, this author's not is really long and also, I'm kind of hyper. Until Next Time!<p> 


	14. Chapter 14

_Fifteen year old Finn Hudson walked into his childhood home, dropping his backpack carelessly beside the door as he did so. He was in a rather foul mood; his long-time crush, Rachel Berry was dating a rival glee club member, Jesse St. James, and from the looks of it, they were going strong. Obviously, he wanted her happiness and if he thought Jesse could give that to her, he would have had no other choice but to be content for her, but he wasn't. _

_ Jesse seemed – Finn really couldn't place it – he seemed almost animalistic with how he treated Rachel. When he thought no one was looking this odd look would pass over his face, one of seeming triumph. It angered Finn whenever he saw it; Rachel was a human, wondrous and surpassing in all her glory, something to be treasured and held dear, certainly, but not something to take pride in owning. No one owned her just as no one owned any human and for Jesse to believe that he held Rachel solely as his own._

_ "Finn?" his mother broke him from his reverie and with a rather forged smile, he walked into the living room to greet her. She was sitting in the couch, the closest seat to the old armchair his father's ashes still sat in. She seemed not to notice him, instead staring off in the distance, lightly twirling the necklace Burt (i.e. Kurt) had given her for her birthday._

_ "Mom?" Finn asked hesitantly, slightly worried. His mother had only been like this on few occasions, a lot of which was when she was thinking of his father; he remembered being younger, four or five maybe, and waking up from a nightmare to find his mother staring like that at their old wedding pictures. That was the first time he'd seen his mother cry. _

_ "Mom?" he repeated and she started. She looked at him through slightly widened eyes; she obviously hadn't noticed him come into the room but he was glad her eyes were dry. She smiled at him warmly, her eyes bright and Finn realized something. His mother was happy, probably more so in years; Burt made her happy and he could tell, then and there, that someday, and probably sooner than later, he'd be calling Kurt Hummel his step-brother._

_ She patted the cushion next to her and he plopped down in it, making the rather old couch sag a little under his weight. His mother was quite a bit shorter than him (he taking after his father) and she had to look up even when they both were sitting. She smiled up at him, bright and lively, and he realized how much younger she looked._

_ "How was school today honey?" the question was simple, one she asked every day – either when he got home or she did – and normally his answer was the same: 'fine' or any variant of the word. Just one word and then a reflective question 'what's for dinner' or 'how 'bout yours', sometimes he went a little in depth, telling her about glee or football, Quinn or, more lately, Rachel; recently however he had gone back to his one-word responses._

_ He didn't know why, maybe it was the smile, so bright and happy, love and warmth coated, or just the fact that for the first time in a long while they were both home at three thirty, sitting down with nothing better to do than talk to each other, or what else, but he found himself talking. About Rachel and how they weren't together any more on his request, but how he couldn't get her out of his head. Her smile, her laugh, the way when she used big words he couldn't understand he wasn't afraid of asking her what they meant because she wasn't about to call him stupid, her voice, everything. _

_ He was originally going to use Rachel as a prelude to his problems with Jesse, but when he started to speak about her, he found it impossible to stop. He wanted her mother to understand everything, all the frustration, the weird butterfly feelings, how much he loved the slight tilt at the tips of lips when he tried to make her laugh when she didn't want to that showed he was winning, how she always pretended to be annoyed when she had to explain something simple to him but her eyes were always bright and shining, how her very voice could make him feel like everything would work out and all he needed was her for it to. _

_ As he talked, his mother simply watched, an odd smile on her face as she listened to him talk about Rachel. When he'd finally finished, having not mentioned Jesse in the slightest, she gently clasped a hand over his and smiled brightly. He was about to ask her what this all about, he'd never seen her look at him like that, a small knowing smile gracing her lips, and it rather confused him, but she started to speak first._

_ "You love her, don't you?" she asked and it threw Finn off. Sure, he cared for Rachel, he'd always did, and he really liked her, but it was different than how he felt with Quinn. Hadn't he loved Quinn? And yet, as he thought of it, he felt that his feelings were stronger for Rachel than they ever were for Quinn. Slowly, he nodded; his mother beamed._

_ With gentle hands, slightly shaky hands, she slipped off the small engagement ring and, producing a small black box that made Finn feel his mother had been thinking of this for a while, she gently placed the beautiful ring into the slit in the velvet. "I want you to have this," she said, gently but firmly placing the box in Finn's hand, closing his fingers around it and keeping hers over it._

_ Finn stared at her, shocked. "B-but that's the engagement ring Dad gave you!" He tried to give the ring back but his mother, smiling still, albeit a bit more sadly, kept it locked in his hand._

_ "First it was your grandmother's. When your father and I began to date, and she realized how much he cared for me, she took this ring off her own finger, and told him to marry me. Within a month we were engaged, in a year we were married, in two, I was heavily pregnant and he was away in war. Now, I'm not telling you to get married and have children this instant, but, you love her Finn. More so than you did with Quinn, even when you thought she was carrying your child…" she paused now, thinking of her first love._

_ "But - I mean - you love this ring!" Which was true, he'd never once seen his mother take the ring off, sometimes she'd sit and play with it, smiling fondly at past memories. Finn didn't want to take something from his mother that had probably kept her sane through some of the bad times they'd had. Carole smiled at her son, reaching over and fixing his hair in a way that reminded him of Kurt._

_ "The ring is just a ring, Finn; it's who gave it to me that made me love it. Your father could have bought me a twenty-five cent plastic ring from a run-down gas stop, and I'd still treasure it as much as this one, but the truth is, I've found someone new that I love just as much. Burt," she paused, "Burt isn't like your father was and I'll never forget your father and all the memories, but he's new and I love him. And it's time, Finn, for me to move on and I'm giving you this ring because it's time for you too. Quinn was just some girl you dated, but Rachel," she smiled, "Rachel is so much more. That's the girl you'll marry someday, I know it and," she paused again, smiling beatifically at him, amusement glinting in her eyes, "I also know that you'd be horrible at picking a ring and too prideful to ask for help, so I'm giving you this one. Keep it for when you find the right time, ask her. She'll say yes, I know she will."_

_ And because she was smiling so brilliantly, herself radiating with the happiness that she wanted her son to have, Finn took the ring, dubiously staring at it late at night as he thought of Jesse and Rachel. He'd tried to say his mother was crazy, that he and Rachel could never make it that far, but he still fell asleep to dreams of him and Rachel together, a bunch of kids under foot. _

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><p>"Finn," Rachel whispered, shocked. Finn smiled at her, that cute half-worried, half-hopeful one he had that she absolutely adored. Here she sat, unable to form coherent sentences, unable to walk, and here, as if from her dreams, sat Finn, ring in hand, proposing to her. She felt faint, unsure of herself, shocked.<p>

"Look, I know we're young, and we've had our ups and downs, and you've got this whole amazingly well-thought out where you don't marry until you're twenty-five, but I almost lost you. Karofsky nearly took you from me Rachel, and it made me realize. I – I don't want to again. I know I've been stupid and you deserve so much better, but I love you and I know that you want to go to New York, and I'll follow you because – because I can't imagine a day without you Rachel."

He paused, gently taking her small hand and holding it in his larger one. "When I almost lost you, I realized what I'd feel like if you were gone and I hated it. I never want to feel like that. I love you with all my heart." He paused, sliding from the bed to his knee, her hand still clasped in his. Rachel gave a little sob, tears falling down her face as she watched him, hardly daring to believe this was real.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, you are the most wondrous woman I've ever met. From the simple way your eyes always seem to shine to the kindness you show from the bottom of your heart, it all amazes me. No woman can compare to you, not a single one, and I wouldn't want them to. You are one of a kind, the single most amazing woman I've ever met. All the cheesy lines I've heard by watching Kurt's secret stash of Romance movies apply to you," he grinned at the soft giggle that escaped Rachel's lips.

"And I'm horrible at this type of thing, obviously but for some insane reason, you love me any way, and all this pointless rambling is really just me stalling from the sheer amount of nerves that have stowed away in my stomach and are making me have those weird butterflies is just me trying to do this," he paused again, breathing deeply, his body shaking horribly and palms sweaty.

"Rachel Barbra Berry, will you do me the honor of all clichés, and be my lovely, wonderful wife?" he smiled cutely at her, hopefulness leaking out from every pore. Rachel, tears still falling down her cheeks, could only make a few words.

"What…Dads?" she finally managed, shock altering her already limited vocabulary. Finn knew exactly what she talking about and smiled as he thought about how he'd gone about fulfilling that certain requirement…

_Finn slid to the floor as the doctor spoke, relief flooding him as the doctor said that Rachel's condition was no longer critical. Beside him, Hiram tightly hugged Leroy, both laughing slightly in relief. He stared at them for a few moments, fingers brushing against the little box in his pocket as he thought. He'd been thinking of proposing to Rachel for a while, and had taken to carrying the small ring around whenever he visited her, just in case, but had yet to do the most important part. _

_Swallowing his nerves and pride, he stood back from the floor and, after they had released each other and noticed him standing there, quietly asked if he could talk to them in quiet for a few minutes. Silently, curiously, the two men had followed him into the hallway where, although people still skirted around them, they were relatively alone. They stood in a stony silence, which did horrors to Finn's nerves, as Finn explained his intentions._

"_You want our permission to marry our daughter?" Leroy asked quietly once Finn had finally stopped rambling. Silently he nodded and watched nervously as Leroy and Hiram turned from him slightly to quietly converse with each other. After much deliberation, and a lot of sheer fear from Finn, they turned back._

"_You've hurt her, a lot. There was days where she came home crying because of seeing you with that Quinn girl. I don't know why she even took you back, from all that you've done to her." Leroy stated, dark eyes staring coolly at Finn. Finn winced at the words, mostly from knowing they were true, "but, she did and I've – We've watched and you make her happy, extremely so. And you seem happy with her, you care for her and you – " he smirked slightly and continued, "you planned a huge revenge when no one would do anything for her, and you love her. So," he smiled at that and Finn struggled not to copy it, still unsure where he stood with the Berrys._

"_We give you our full blessing!" Hiram finally interrupted smiling widely, before embracing the shocked and ecstatic Finn. He'd gotten their blessing, he'd actually steeled his jelly nerves and gotten permission to marry Rachel, now all he had to do was ask. He winced slightly as he realized just how much more difficult it would be._

"I already asked," he told her, squeezing her hand. He still sat on one knee, staring up at her through hopeful eyes. Rachel thought of their time together, how many days they would sit there, just laughing or talking, enjoying each other's company, but then she thought of the other days, when they were fighting or yelling, breaking up and pining for the other.

"You can raise our children however you want," Finn spoke, worrying rather on how she'd answer ". Rachel looked at him, and he continued. "We had that conversation once, when Burt was in the hospital and everyone was talking about their religions, you said you wanted to raise our children Jewish. I'm okay with that, you can raise them, teach them, name them whatever you want, "she laughed at the last one, a light tilting laugh that made him grin again.

Rachel bit her lip, still conflicted slightly, was Finn worth all the heart ache and fights, or would they be above those now, in this new relationship? She already felt the difference in their life together, subtle, but definitely there. She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking. Finn never once let go or loosened his hold on her hand, neither overbearing nor nonexistent, perfectly balanced between two odds. In this moment, she'd made her decision.

"Ginny." She stated, staring at Finn through brown eyes, trying desperately to keep a poker face as Finn looked at her confused. "For our da-der," she mispronounced daughter and didn't even care as Finn, finally catching on, pulled her in for a fierce kiss, arms wrapping tightly around her waist. After a few moments, they parted, both breathing hard and laughing breathlessly as Finn, with shaking hands, slid the silver ring onto her finger.

This moment, this short moment, seemed momentous, already, they felt as if things were changing. They didn't care, of course, of any difficulties the future might carry, of any tumults they might cross over, because in that moment, that small, wondrous moment, they were perfection.

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><p>Kurt stared at his boyfriend through slightly wide eyes, pulling his ear from the door as he and Blaine shared shocked looks. It had been decided that, upon any possible problem that might lead to Finn and Rachel's notice of them, they would be the least likely to be murdered in any fashion and so had been left to spy on the young couple.<p>

"I don't believe this!" he whispered to Blaine who, for his part, seemed just as shocked as him. He had expected something like this, maybe, but definitely not as extreme as a proposal. He had to admit, it was quite romantic for Finn and the story line behind it was strikingly similar to the Romance Dramas he secretly coveted.

"I know right? She took the name I wanted to name our daughter!" Blaine stated, hardly realizing what he'd said. Kurt stared at him, shocked, all thoughts of Rachel and Finn from his mind in revelation on what his boyfriend had just said. In that moment, Blaine realized his slip up because he quickly began to back up, "Oh my God, I didn't mean that. I mean, not that I wouldn't want to have a family with you, but we've just begun dating, and I've made a complete fool of myself and I'm sorry and I'd totally understand if you wanted to break up with me for being a complete idi-"

But Blaine had been cut off by his boyfriend (who had been trying to get his attention throughout his entire rant) crashing his soft lips against his. Surprised, he didn't respond for several moments, before finally, he wrapped his arms around Kurt's small waist and began to kiss back just as eagerly, obviously relieved that Kurt hadn't been frightened off.

"You're crazy," Kurt murmured against his lips once they parted for breath, "if you thinking I was going to name my precious baby _Ginny_. Lily or Luna, even Hermione maybe given the right middle name, but definitely not Ginny. No thank you." Blaine laughed, pulling Kurt closer to him still and back into another kiss, gentler than the first.

"So," Blaine started, smirking once they'd broken from the second kiss. Kurt stared slightly down at him, his blue-green eyes brimming with curiosity. "Hidden stash of romance movies, huh?" Kurt groaned slightly, cheeks tinting pink in embarrassment.

"Shut up!" he moaned as Blaine laughed loudly, arms still loosely wrapped around his hips. Blaine smiled gently, taking one hand and brushing against Kurt's reddened cheeks. He stared so intently with those wondrous, smoldering hazel eyes that it took his breath away.

"Do you, by any odd chance, have 'When Harry Met Sally'?" he asked offhandedly, smiling brightly as Kurt let out a high, bell-like laugh that sent warm shivers down his back. He was content, in this small, shining moment, Kurt wrapped in his arms, laughing gently, completely comfortable around him. This moment, small and maybe slightly insignificant, was wonderful and amazing to them. No matter what lay ahead, they had each other, and together, they'd take on the world.

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><p>Yes, I know it's late, and yes I'm sorry, but my computer completely crashed and I had to completely restore it which means I lost EVERYTHING! I was quite upset, and I spent most of yesterday trying to get my music from my iPod and getting back all my stories, and it was a total nightmare. Anyway, the chapter's nice and long (comparatively) and there's no angst (trust me, I had an alternate ending that would have been slightly angsty AND a cliffhanger but decided to be nice), it's just nice and fluffy. I had to add the Blaine and Kurt ending there because I really haven't had much of them and thought it would be a nice little add-in seeing as someone would be spying. I quite liked the joking manner they had and I liked this chapter, and I hope you all did too. Until Next Time, then.<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

Before we go to the chapter, I just really wanted to express how sorry I was at the tardiness of this chapter. I_'_m staying at my aunt's house in Reno for the month and since she has three small children to look after, we are only permitted computers at nap and after bed. That means I can only do chapters infrequently and I apologize for that. I hope you enjoy!

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><p><em>Two Months Later<em>

"You're doing great Rae," Artie smiled, hands folded gently in his lap as he watched Rachel slowly maneuver herself around the hospital room without falling. He, having gone through many years of physical therapy in dashed hopes of finding some cooperation, was assigned Rachel-walking duties. Starting out, they had done the simple things, exercised them with tension bands, each growing more and more resistant, as well as moving around on hospital approved crutches.

Slowly, they had transferred the crutches to walking, which had started out as slow and quite painful for Rachel as she struggled to re-learn something she had learned before she could even talk (singing not counted), but Artie had been supportive all the way though, and didn't complain when Rachel was insensitively talking about how she couldn't run. Of course, she always apologized afterwards, but still, Artie had been amazing.

"Knock, knock." Rachel jumped slightly and Artie turned around fast, obviously startled. A tall man with dark hair, gelled back in a fifties-esque style, in a dark suit stood there. He was rather impressive looking, towering in the hallway at just around six feet and would have been frightening looking if it weren't for the familiar, rather mischievous looking grin that adorned and brightened his features.

"Mr. Anderson! What are you doing here?" Rachel wasn't quite yet over her shock and for once, forgotten to be on her up-most behavior towards the man. Mr. Anderson, a man with a temperament much like his son's, merely chuckled.

"I've come to scare you, obviously," he deadpanned; his clear silver eyes the only thing betraying his façade. Rachel had always found it odd that his eyes, like Blaine's, always betrayed his emotions, no matter how hard he tried. So, even with the amusement that twinkled through them, Rachel could still catch the small sign of anxiety. She stared at him expectantly; he coughed quietly, straightening himself up to full height, and with a somber expression, began to speak.

"The trial, obviously, is scheduled for a month from now. I felt that I should inform you that, as I am a rather _well-known_ lawyer and David Karofsky has refused to supply himself with any of the approved lawyers his father has offered…" he trailed off, not knowing how to finish it. Rachel, small, beautiful, _scarred_ Rachel stood before him, her slender hand gently pushing her dark locks behind her ear, head cocked slightly in confusion. Beside her, Artie glared at Mr. Anderson, obviously knowing what Rachel had not quite grasped.

"The –" he cleared his throat, "the court has designated me for his defense. I can't refuse it and in an hour I will be meeting with the Karofskys to discuss the case." He stared slightly off from her eyes, refusing to meet the betrayal that would lie there. He had seen enough of it in his son's eyes before he had left the house.

"So, you won't be around to help anymore?" Rachel's voice, melodious though quiet, cut through the tension that had arose from his statement. He looked at her; she was staring at him through a careful façade, her brown eyes bright but unaccusing. He nodded and made to apologize but she smiled serenely at him and cut across his half-began word, "I don't blame you Mr. Anderson, I understand your inability to refuse. I won't hold it against you." She smiled again. He was only momentarily relieved. "But I do have a request for you, since you are going to be so close to David…"

"Rachel," Artie began warningly but was shushed by a single glance from Rachel. Mr. Anderson watched as they seemed to have a silent but vicious battle against each other. Artie kept shaking his head and Rachel kept glaring at him and nodding and Mr. Anderson had half a thought to ask them what they were arguing about when either Rachel won or just ignored Artie and began to speak again.

"I wish to see David." Rachel, although without the impeccable speech she had mastered through her years, was still as straightforward as ever. Mr. Anderson stared at her and she elaborated. "I want to speak with him before the trial, just want to speak with him." She stared so earnestly, so hopefully he felt his heart break. He thought of his betrayal to his son and friend, helping an obviously guilty boy get off, and of her acceptance of it. He owed her this much.

He ignored the pitfall of his stomach, he ignored the glare, half-angry, half-annoyed from Artie, he ignored the frantic buzzing of a cellphone from his pocket; he ignored the signs as he nodded, taking a small slip of paper from his pocket and writing down the address of the mental home David Karofsky was currently staying at.

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><p>David was in a nightmare. A nightmare that held nothing substantial, yet everything he'd ever feared was an arm's width away. The room he sat in was white; everything was white, and bare. The doctors around him had said that to 'increase the healing process' things from home should be brought in. Things from happier times where he wasn't suicidal. His mother and father had brought many things from home and yet they lay in a box in the corner, covered with a thin white sheet.<p>

Every time his mother was permitted to visit, she would unpack the items onto the white shelves; every time she left he would lay them carefully back in the box and place the sheet back over them. He didn't want to see the items, to think of them; he didn't want to remember that there was a time he was happy, not when that happiness was brought on by other's pain.

The hockey trophy from his Sophomore year had been given to him the same day he'd first called Kurt Hummel a 'fairy fag' and shoved him into a locker to the jeers of his teammates, his football jersey from his Junior year had a small stain in the corner from when he and his thugs had the bright idea to group slushy Artie Abrams, all the supposed 'happy' memories were now tainted with the thoughts of the pain he'd caused others.

When the doctors realized the happy memories were staying in the brown box they'd come in, they tried other tactics. They'd brought in copies of photos of family and friends that David had slid into a white envelope and tucked into a drawer. They'd encouraged him during recreational hour to paint pictures for himself; he'd stare at a blank white paper for fifty-eight minutes. He had no will to bring color into his personal hell.

They'd tried to get him to talk about why he'd done what he'd done. His parents did, his friends did, the doctors, the nurses, his newly appointed lawyer, the man that kept watch of him in his room overnight when he'd feign sleep, they'd all tried. They all had different tactics – most failed miserably, David wasn't nearly as stupid as people pertained him to be and their make-shift excuses didn't fool him, but some, from the people that knew him the most, his mother and best friend Azimio, were difficult to sway off and several times in the beginning he'd found himself nearly spilling everything.

Now, two months after his initial attempt at retribution, he'd developed a fool proof self-defense; he didn't speak. No hellos to passing by patients or over-friendly nurses or kindly doctors passed his lips in the morning, no goodbyes or goodnights graced his lips in the evening. The hours scheduled towards counseling a day were spent in a heavy tension as his psychiatrist tried to get him to speak and he counted the specks on the walls or the leaves on the tree right outside the window.

He found it fitting, once he realized the extent of Rachel Berry's injuries, that instead of taking his own life, he'd allow himself no voice, no opinion to which he could wield against the innocents of the world. After all he had literally silenced one, very nearly permanently. He knew what people thought of the case, some for Rachel, most for him. He couldn't believe anyone would wish to fight for him; he was a coward who caused nothing but pain, he both knew and embraced this morose fact.

He didn't want the trial; he wanted to be put in prison where he belonged for the rest of his life, only the thoughts of his family kept him from chucking out all pleas and going for guilty. As a seventeen year old boy being charged for attempted murder in the state of Ohio, he would be tried as an adult. His father therefore, had no jurisdiction over the lawyer he'd receive, which is how he was appointed a court-inducted lawyer. He'd been relieved when Aiden Anderson had been appointed to serve, a lackluster lawyer would help seal his well-deserved fate all the while he'd appeared to his family as innocent and wrongly-accused; he wished for no more pain to fall onto his poor mother.

He was willing and expecting to hate himself, to wish himself an end, and the first was true; he felt disgust and hatred whenever he was asked to describe himself by the doctors, but, although he didn't tell anyone, he no longer felt the desire to end it all. Instead, he felt stubborn and defiant of his father who still blindly bleated of his innocence, he knew now how much of a coward he was to do what he did and wanted nothing less than the full extent of the law to crack down on him; he deserved it all.

David was willing to stay in his personal hell, where he spoke none, the walls betrayed nothing, and he was left to his solemn thoughts and the shimmering, tortuous memories of his dark past. He wasn't content, how could someone be content when they hated everything about themselves and only continued to breathe as defiance to his deepest of wishes? He would never be content and he was prepared for that.

He was willing to remain ignorant, in his self-induced torture, of the outside world; he didn't want to know any more than the facts of his trial and the injuries Rachel had sustained because of him. He merely waited for his trial and the only outsider he desired was his lawyer and only then was it to be able to stare at a man convinced of his guilt and smile back at his awaited fate.

That's why when a tall, dark haired man with a nervous smile and fitted suit, slowly followed by a tiny, slowly moving brunette with wide brown eyes staring at him, he was for the first time, he distinctly felt as if his hell, for the first time, was uncomfortable. As the girl loomed closer to him, he felt his unease grow to fear and as she opened her mouth to speak, it had grown to the most sorrowful sorrows. Before Rachel Berry could speak, David Karofsky had uttered his first words in two months.

"I'm sorry."


	16. Chapter 16

BEFORE WE BEGIN: I know it's been forever (over a month) since I updated and I greatly apologize for that. I had been at my aunt's and had limited to no access to the computer. BUT I am back home now and will try to update as soon as possible. Under no circumstances have I given up on this story. Once again I am sorry, and I hope you enjoy. ONTO story.

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><p>Rachel stared up at the light pink hue of her ceiling. She should have been happy or at the very least relieved at finally being home (her fathers had picked her up from the hospital this morning) but instead she was discontent, nervous even. She gently fingered the binding of the small book by her side before picking it up and opening it, hoping for a distraction. It was handmade, the pages artfully creased and ripped to appear old, bound together by a piece of satin ribbon curving through different holes in the side of the papers. The first page was an introduction of sorts, written in the wonderfully beautiful calligraphic hand of Kurt Hummel.<p>

The first page explained what the book was – a scrapbook – all the words crafted to shape around and enhance the middle photo. Normally, Rachel would have looked at it and smile as she thought of the memory; it had been a warm day of early summer and all her friends were visiting the hospital. They crowded around her bed, dripping popsicles onto the pearly white sheet, smiling with lips of varying colors from being stained by the warming treats.

Now, however, not even this picture of a child-like innocence could distract her from the coming catastrophe; tomorrow was the trial that hinged the fate of David Karofsky. Rachel knew she should be glad, David was being tried for attempted murder and she knew she should be relieved. A part of her was happy that David wasn't going to be able to hurt anyone if he was convicted – there would be no hurtful words or painful blows for Kurt, no inappropriate taunts or wandering hands for Brittany, no death threats or harmful blows, no anything.

But another, larger part of her subconscious mind returned to that day in the psych ward, back to a room more white and bare than her own rather cheerfully dispositional hospital room, back to looking down at a boy thin and pale, his drab white clothes hanging from his thinly ragged body as he murmured his sorrows and apologizes at her.

Rachel looked up at her calendar, a cutesy Harry Potter cartoon one Blaine had made for her. A date – tomorrow's date, had been circled repeatedly in a pink sharpie. She glared at it, and threw herself back onto the bed, not minding the sharp sort of pain that echoed her half-healed body's complaint. Tomorrow, a boy – a scared boy who merely parroted his ignorant father's beliefs, was going to be placed in front of a court and his foolish piety and lack of self-worth would be the end of him.

Tomorrow David Karofsky was going to be convicted for being terrified, for being more victim than predator and there was nothing Rachel could do about it; even with knowledge of the truth, nothing could be done.

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><p>Aiden Anderson bit back a sigh as his second oldest child slammed the door. It had been a month since he was appointed to the Karofsky murder case, and Blaine looked none the closer to forgiving him. He smiled wearily at his worried looking wife, wishing that least of all, he could ease the burden of a divided household from her frail shoulders. Amalia Anderson was in under no condition to be so stressed, her small hand resting on the rotund swell of her stomach, rubbing it as if to soothe the babe within.<p>

He gently kissed the top of her head as he passed to his study, knowing full well of her dark brown-green eyes following his fluid movements closely. He waited until the door was closed soundly behind him before collapsing into the chair beside it, his careful mask of indifference fading past. The strain of the trial, the heavy scrutiny that people held him under as he passed was of one thing; it took one kind of courage to stand before that.

The strain of his child, one of the most precious gifts he had ever been given by the Lord up high, not speaking to him, for glaring at him with the deepest of hatreds buried in his usually bright eyes, was worse. There was no courage for standing before that; instead he put on a façade so as for no one to see how he balked from his son's accusing gazes, how he trembled within as a flower does in a windstorm.

He raised his dark head to peer at the planner that lay sprawled open on his desk. In neat penmanship that many years on the field of law had taught him, he had penned in the time of the trial. One more day and this horrid, treacherous month will have ended. David Karofsky will either be convicted of attempted murder as both he and the accused knew he deserved, or he shall walk away a free man haunted by his guilt.

Aiden Anderson grabbed for a bottle, hidden skillfully from the eyes of his scrutinizing wife under the files in the bottommost drawer to his desk, and took a deep swallow of the amber liquid inside. It nulled the pain somewhat, his head going slightly fuzzy as he took another swig and then another. By the time an hour's time had passed, he was positively cheerful, slurring the words to his favorite song and sloshing the liquid around the bottle obnoxiously.

What did he care, in this self-induced and tragically short-lived paradise, that his son hated him? That his pregnant wife lay down in a double bed by herself for the umpteenth night, ready for a fitful night of unrest? What cared he that tomorrow a child would be brought before the court, to be ridiculed or rectified? That tomorrow a child, one that he had lost his to protect, would be facing the cruel hands of an unfair jury?

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><p>Brittany stood in front of her mirror, her pale, nearly translucent skin shining through the bright cotton undergarments she wore. She had bags under her eyes, ones that during the day, under the watch of her friends and girlfriend, were skillfully hidden from view but in the privacy of her bedroom, were uncovered and bared for her alone to see, much like the nightmares that plagued her.<p>

She would not tell anyone that they returned, for she feared going back to that strange doctor her parents had made her go to as a child, the one that had made her relive her deepest fears, her darkest memories for an hour every week of her life. The one that made her tell him all the impurities of herself, of her unworthiness of this world. Instead, she visited those memories every night.

She watched those memories where a dark-haired man whispered reassurances as his hands drifted lower down her body, where she was stripped naked and forced to do unspeakable acts whenever that dark-haired man watched over her. She revisited those court proceedings, as she was ridiculed in front of everyone, as she was belittled and called a liar. She watched again and again as her uncle walked free despite the medical and physical evidence.

Brittany's fingers traced old scars, ones so old she didn't remember getting them, owing them to the fuzzy, torturous nights her uncle visited. Around and around her thighs they went, thin and half-faded though whispering of the sins of the past. Her fingers went around again, and she bit back the tears as she remembered the pain. She knew it would be worse tomorrow, when for the first time in eight years she would return to the place her uncle had been freed at but she forced herself to face it.

She would break herself tonight, so that tomorrow she could be strong. She would let herself fall this night, let the walls that hid her impurities from the world break, so that tomorrow she could stand tall, the walls reinforced as steel. She would let herself relive the pain at its fullest this night, this final night, so that tomorrow, the day of the trial, it wouldn't faze her.

Tomorrow, she would be testifying in the court of law, once again, of sexual abuse done against her. Her testimony will not only matter for herself, but for Rachel, that wondrous, inexplicably beautiful girl that had nearly died to save her. This little sacrifice of pain was nothing to the torturous months Rachel had faced.

Tonight, Brittany stood in front of herself in all her shameful glory, hiding not from her tortured past, but standing in its presence, letting the raw emotion bask over her as if it were sunshine, facing it all. Tomorrow, she could not fall, she could not crumble within, for if she did, then like that eight year old girl she once was, she would watch a guilty man walk free again.

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><p>Kind of dark and definitely a transitional chapter. Next chapter will be the trial and more of the encounter between Rachel and David will be revealed along with other things. I'm expecting it to be quite dramatic. Also, for any one who doesn't remember, I hinted that Brittany had been sexually abused slightly in chapter one and definitely in chapter two so that's why its come in now. Because well, it would bring depth into her character as well as bring me a way to add angst to an already angsty story. I once again, for the third time, apologize for the absurdly tardy update. I hope you enjoyed it and of course welcome critiscm, ideas, or anything else you guys want to offer. Until next time!<p> 


	17. Chapter 17

David Karofsky stepped out into the street, eyes squinting at the blindingly bright street before him. He was dressed finely, in a suit of immeasurable quality, the thin dark fabric shining glossily in the midmorning's light; his hair was combed up in an elegant but simple style, his dress shoes sparkling. Still, though, he held the air of someone who had suffered from a crippling illness. His skin, once of a handsome, slightly tanned color, was of a sallow pallor; his brown eyes that once shone as he smiled and sparkled as he left, were lifeless, nearly black in color as his pupil dilated in an attempt of getting used to the long forgotten brightness of the natural light.

Dark circles hugged his cheekbones, the deep purple of bruises. His body, once thick but fit, as of a football player, was thin and ragged looking, the handsome suit hanging off his body limply. His shoulders, once held high and proud as he stared straight into the world, now slumped as if some impossibly heavy weight drug them done. His hair, though gelled up, still looked limp and uncared for, the dark color standing out against his chillingly pale skin.

David's father, gently clapped his son on the back, and he turned. He didn't look at his father, a stocky middle-aged man, or even his mother, a tiny figure of dark hair and light eyes, but at the building behind them. _Traverse City State Juvenile Hospital, _a large sign in front of the old, classically styled building read. Had David any true emotion left in him, he would have laughed. The place wasn't a hospital, at least not to him.

Instead, it seemed more of a building people sent their kids if what happened to them was out of their control or expertise to help and the state didn't want to deal with them. Drug abusers, cutters, kleptomaniacs, arsonists who couldn't help themselves, anorexics, bulimics, the abused –sexually or physically, the suicides – all cases that warranted the help of the government in the Allen County, Ohio were thrown in together. He had seen more cases of discriminated children; victims of monsters like him then were healthily advised.

They had ranged variably as well. One girl, a tall dark-haired girl of the name Sophie had been in a bit with him for attempting to throw up her lunch in the school's bathroom. She had only been in two weeks, because, according to her, her foster parents had overreacted to the 'small experiment'. She had told the doctors she had found it disgusting and filthy and was released on the premise of being closely watched in her dietary habits.

On the other hand, a dark-skinned boy no older than thirteen was in for heavy drug abuse. He learned it all from his step-dad, from the perfect veins to stick the syringe in to where to find reliable drug dealers that would supply underage children with suitable drugs. When the boy, Nico, had come in, bruises had marred his dark skin from where his step-dad had hit him and small holes on his left arm indicate where he shot up most frequently.

He had too been released, after being detoxed, with his name added into the system and a small supply of methadone to wean himself off of. David had heard people muttering as Nico left, giving him a week or month before he would return. David had to agree.

Then, there were the other cases that were even worse than Nico – the abused – many of the girls who had boyfriends that beat them could be heard in the middle of the night, either crying out for forgiveness at what petty misdemeanor had warranted a slap or screaming for help as their memory boyfriends advanced on them. The sexual ones were even worse, shying and cringing from any man that neared them, as if they would turn into their abusers and punish them. One girl, hardly older than Rachel Berry, was heavily pregnant with a child given to her forcibly by her step-father, one she refused to kill.

Then, the worst of the lot, the ones that got sympathy even from the worst of the lots, were the self-harmers, the suicides. David was one of five suicides the facility housed and he was frequently put in group therapy with them. There was Anna, a light haired, pale faced girl with thick scars on her wrists, and there was Jack, David could still see the thick rope burns from his botched attempt at hanging himself, after him had come the youngest of the lot, a tiny girl of eleven who had swallowed antifreeze that her mother kept under the kitchen sink.

The worst of the lot however, David had never managed to get a close look at. He would shy and cringe from him if he ever felt those gentle, golden eyes on him. The boy's name was Alexander called Alec and he was a shockingly beautiful boy. He had pale skin, beautiful in its light color, dark hair the color of melted chocolate, and eyes the color of amber. David had felt gravitated towards the boy and had felt the eyes of the curious man on him on more than one occasion but he had blanched at every attempt Alec made for conversation.

David knew the boy should hate him, should despise him with every fiber of his being, and would, if he had ever found out about David's shameful past. He was gay, having admitted so the first day he arrived for group therapy and was quite the cheery sort despite the thick scar that he would cover with a bracelet. He never told anyone why he tried to die, merely smiling brightly and speaking of whatever had caught his fancy in the moments before therapy.

David would watch the boy transfixed, when he spoke, admiring the color of his eyes and the way he would carelessly flick his fringe around if it ever became a bother. David deserved happiness, Rachel had told him in their meeting, and sometimes, when he looked at Alec, he could imagine having it, happiness away from his father and his damaging ideals, unafraid of being who he was. But then who he was, who he _truly_ was, would creep back in and David would berate himself from being stupid. He was destined to spend the rest his life in a constant state remorse. The self-hatred he still carried long-after Rachel Berry had begged him to rid himself would allow no other alternative.

That didn't stop his treacherous heart from skipping a beat when Alec had cheerfully waved him off, supposedly unaware of David's crimes against humanity. David had returned the small wave before turning away and following his father from the dreary white hall.

David was brought from his thoughts as a dark sleek car pulled in front of him, passenger window rolling down to reveal his lawyer, Aiden Anderson. He gesture towards the Karofsky's and they ambled towards the car, David and his mother taking the back, his father the front. The ride was silent, no one spoke as the car made its way down the empty street, the air was thick with tension.

David's thoughts slipped from the dreary hospital and all its hidden cases and turned instead to the ever looming trial. He didn't feel nervous or dreadful even. Mostly, he was emotionless, accepting and even hoping to be found guilty. He had done horrible atrocities and the only thing that stopped him from pleading guilty was the petite woman beside him who grasped his hand in her own tiny one, rubbing it soothingly as one would do the back of a crying infant.

His mother was possibly the most wonderful woman in the world, and second in bravery and kindness only to Rachel Berry. She had been the one to find him after the attack, the one to clean his injuries as she waited for the ambulance, the first face he'd seen after he'd woken in the hospital room, his entire body sore and screaming.

He remembered as a child as she would tut disapprovingly as his father ranted about 'the indecency of gays in the community' and her screaming herself hoarse when she heard what he had done to the Berry's. His mother believed in equal opportunity and the right one had to love whoever they wanted. It hurt him, looking back now, how easily it was to forego his mother's teachings to gain his father's approval. She was the sole reason he didn't plead guilty; he didn't want to hurt her more to admit _why _he'd done what he did, which would be necessary for pleading. He also was not going to parrot his innocence like his father did, so he would enter the court without pleading.

The car pulled up and stopped in front of a tall, pure white building – the Limo Town Courthouse. He helped his mother out of the car before turning towards his lawyer. Mr. Anderson seemed quite distracted, his eyes distinctively blood-shot, but he nodded and led them silently into the courthouse. The insides were as elegantly designed as David remembered them being as a child but he was less inclined to look at them as they were hurried along the hallways, harassed by the frenzied reporters that lay in wait for them.

David and his family were led into a small room just off the courtroom he would shortly be tried in. Mr. Anderson opened his briefcase, about to go over their defense one more time when a soft knock reverberated through the small room. Mr. Anderson bid them permission to enter and the large door opened to admit the frame of a small girl.

David's father growled and made to confront her but David stopped him with an outreached hand. Rachel Berry stood in a simple black but flattering dress, her hair pinned back in a half ponytail, braided as it cascaded down her back with the rest of her hair, looking with unperceivably bright eyes at the Karofsky family.

"Hello?" she greeted in an unsure, quiet voice, stepping farther into the room and allowing the door to close with a soft click behind her. "I wanted to speak with David, in private?" she added quietly, directing her question not to David but to his parents.

"Why, so you can ridicule him yourself before leaving him to the consequences of your deranged lies?" hissed his father, glaring at the small girl. She flinched, but stood her ground, continuing to stare at him. Mrs. Karofsky glared at her husband angrily on behave of the girl.

"Of course you can sweetie," with a curious look at the two of them, she pushed her husband out the door, Mr. Anderson following the pair behind. Rachel waited for the door to close behind them before turning towards David.

"How are you?" she asked quietly, concern flickering through her brown eyes. David snorted.

"You are too damn, caring you know that?" He spoke, although his tone was light, almost joking. "I'm fine," he added seeing as Rachel's accusing look of him not taking care of himself didn't fade.

"Good. Have you decided if you are going to plead?" she knew the answer before she had even asked. She had been trying for the past fortnight to get him to plead guilty and get a lighter sentence. He had steadfastly refused.

"I'm not," he replied shortly. Had it been anyone else, he would be demanded to explain himself, but he had already done so to Rachel and so a slightly tense followed his words, then:

"You'd get a lighter sentence," Rachel quietly pleaded; her brown eyes alight with a compassion that rivaled no others. It was amazing to see, this girl who nearly lost her life, pleading with her would be murderer to have mercy on himself.

"I don't deserve it." He replied tonelessly, hand running through his hair absentmindedly as he spoke. "Not after what I put you and your family through. Not after I made Kurt and Brittany suffer like I did. I deserve to spend the rest of my life in jail for my crimes, and I will be if the jury has any sense." He added.

"If the jury had _any_ sense, you will be given a light sentence, not spending the rest of your life in jail!" Rachel spat, glaring at the boy. She agreed that the boy needed some time in jail, but not the rest of his life. Never the rest of his life. "You deserve to be happy! Your constant remorse and self-inflicted punishments of silence and little to no companionship is nearly enough!" David stared at her, shocked.

"How do you know about that last bit?" When he did speak to Rachel, it was always about the trial or how she was healing, never about him or his then current residence. It was a silently agreed unspoken topic between them, until now. David wondered how she could have possibly known he was still not speaking with anyone at the hospital.

"Despite your impressive attempts, you did make a friend at the hospital. One who was _worried_ about you and how you'd take the trial. They told me of your self-inflicting punishments." David wondered who it could possibly be that care about him so much as to contact his only acquaintance. His mind immediately, treacherously wondered towards Alec before quickly dismissing it. If Alec knew anything about his crimes and the trial scheduled for them, he would abhor him, not worry. Besides, he didn't believe he'd said one word to the other boy.

"…Which you know I believe to be ridiculous!" Rachel continued. "I believe you should be punished, we both know that! But," she continued in a far gentler tone, "I also _know_ you know what you did was wrong, and that makes you so much different to a true monster. I know what you did was a horrid mistake but you need to let go of this hatred. It's killing you far more effectively than those pain-killers did." Rachel eyes filled with unshed, frustrated tears as she looked at the boy. She wanted, _needed _to save him, at least from himself if no one else.

"I know you aren't pleading for your mother's sake," she said, reaching for the door as she spoke, her quiet words carrying to David's ears, "but she'd feel a whole lot prouder of you if you admitted your faults." She yanked the doorknob open, "and getting you back after five or ten years would be a hell of a lot better than dying before she could see her baby boy walk free again." She added, walking out the now open door, leaving David feeling worse than a talk with Rachel ever had.

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><p>Yay, I kind of early chapter. I know I promised to write the trial and when this began that's what it was going to be, just the beginning in David's POV. But then I started describing the hospital and then Alec came in. I'm not sure how you are going to feel about him but I wanted a character besides Rachel that would accept David for his past issues and help him realize that he wasn't a monster like his father had taught him to be. I don't know if he'd go that far, it will depend on you all's reception of him so please tell me what you thought. I also wanted to thank you guys for all your opinions on David's sentence. I agree, that he should be punished but not as severely as say, someone like his father. I don't know if it'll turn out that way though, I never really do. I also wanted to thank one reviewer, can't remember which, for creating my mistakes. I'd go back and fix them but I'm quite lazy and am currently supposed to be either doing my A.P. vocabulary, A.P. History notes, or reading the Scarlett Letter at this moment. Also, to the faithful reviewer who wishes for Pezberry or Fraberry, sorry but not this story. Maybe another one I'll write will feature either of those couples. I shall update soon and will end this abnormally large author's note with,<p>

Until Next Time!


	18. Chapter 18

Rachel walked past the Karofsky's and Mr. Anderson, barely pausing in her thoughts to acknowledge the taunts sent by Mr. Karofsky. She knew that she might have been a bit rough, judging by the pained look that loomed on David's face as she walked out, but she couldn't find it in herself to be apologetic. The boy was being idiotic; he was sacrificing himself to his inner demons and he wouldn't listen to reason. She was shaking from anger; small traces of clear, salty tears lingered on her cheeks as she kept walking. She had completely bypassed the courtroom and was outside in the clear, bright blue sunshine of a midsummer morning before she had even realized.

She leaned back onto the old brick walls of the courtroom breathing deeply. A pain was shooting from her bad leg but she ignored it, a little bit of an ache never killed anyone. She closed her eyes and lowered her head, allowing her thick brown face to at least partially obscure her face. She knew the trial was starting soon but she felt no desire to walk back in; she had no desire to watch a foolish boy let his self-anger overcome his reason and fall willingly from grace.

"Stupid boy!" she hissed angry, wishing she had something to punch that wouldn't break her hand, preferably a soft plushy with David's photograph taped to it. Why did he have to hate himself? Why was he allowing himself to be hurt like this? These thoughts drifted from her mind unbridled, along with, on a much darker river, free-flowing but sluggish, drifted along secrets, a burning one, a deep one, lit the path for the others. Rachel shoved it from her mind. She knew she should tell someone of it, but David had begged her not to and she owed him that one honor. If it came to a time where that one little fact could save David, she would use it, if not it shall go to her to her grave.

"Penny for your thoughts, my dear?" A soft but drawling voice spoke from directly to the side of her. So quiet had the man been she hadn't heard him walk up beside her, a mere six inches away. She jumped before turning and striking at the young man. For his part, he handled the attack quite well, merely stretching a pale hand out to stop her own, his bracelet sliding further down his wrist to reveal a thin, pink scar that marred the skin around it.

"Are you quite done now?" Alec sounded annoyed but a sliver of amusement toned his voice, and his amber eyes sparkled mischievously. Rachel glared.

"Well I'm so sorry! A strange person just happens to be within inches of me, I'm going to react!" Alec raised his hand to his heart as if Rachel's words had wounded him. Rachel's expression softened at the familiar boy's antics. "What are you even doing out Alec?" she asked, her voice softer. Alec casually wrapped his arm around her waist, directing her to the doors of the court.

"Simple really. I told Uncle Hiram I wanted to witness your trial, he pulled some strings at the 'hospital' –"he used his free hand to make air quotes as he spoke, eliciting a giggle from the petite girl. "And bam! I'm temporarily released from it and into your father's capable hands for the day." He said, a smile softening his impish features as he began strolling her seemingly carelessly through the double doors of the court, his arm tightening around her waist as they passed the reporters who had heckled the Karofskys.

Having been distracted by thoughts of David and worries over the trial, Rachel had not noticed the press before. Now though, she stared nearly as curiously at the men and women passing by as they did her. Many asked questions but Alec steered her along swiftly and she had long passed before she had summed an answer.

"How's David?" Alec asked in what he swore was a casual tone. Judging from Rachel's amused, knowing look, he doubted its success.

"Being an idiot, as usual." She replied as he led her into the small courtroom. It was already tightly crowded with onlookers and Alec was careful to maneuver the small girl throughout the people. Rachel was both touched and amused by his over-carefulness, having gotten used to it over the months from him as well as others. "He won't recant his statements, or even admit to being guilty. He doesn't want his mother to believe she failed him, that she raised a monster. His words, not mine." She added at Alec's expression.

"Why are all boys so fucking idiotic?" Alec asked, cursing freely to express his irritation. Rachel raised an eyebrow and gestured towards him. Alec, although gay and with soft, gentle features, was definitely not as effeminate as to file himself with girls as opposed to boys. Alec's amused gaze flickered to his wrist and then back to Rachel silently conveying he fell into the character.

Rachel felt distinctly more awkward at that. Alec seemed to not take anything serious and his joking aura fell in even with that scar that had come to define him. She would never pry but the mysterious mark had always been an area of interest but Alec remained silent. He was as stubborn as David and Rachel figured that's what drew Alec to him, they were both ridiculously stubborn.

"The trial's starting, you need to get to your seat," Alec sounded amused, as if he could sense her irritation at him, as he gestured towards her defense attorney. Directly behind him, in the crowded seating, her friends and family had managed to squeeze together. He gave her an encouraging smile and she darted through the crowd, snagging her seat just in time for the judge to bang his gavel. Alec sat in the back, barely noticeable up front.

He was worried, as he cast a hesitant glance at the ragged appearance of David Karofsky. Watching the boy that had nearly killed his cousin and closest relative at the hospital, he felt drawn to the reclusive man. Listening to how Rachel spoke about him, his anger and disappoint in himself, his loyalty to his mother, all of it had drawn him into a web he found hard to get out of.

As David Karofsky raised his head, the pale skin illuminated in the dim light of the courtroom, Alec caught his eye. He watched as those chocolate brown eyes, the ones he had caught himself dreaming about, widened in recognition and then horror. Alec smiled and mouthed 'good luck' to him, maybe just a tad cheekily. He knew David deserved to be in jail for what he did, although, as he clenched the head of the chair in front of him, his scar blaring out on his fair wrist, he did too.

He could have found their story in the romance section of a cushy little coffee shop: two self-harmers destined by fate to fall into a forbidden love. He smirked in amusement; after all two almost murderers deserved each other, did they not?

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><p>Yeah, sorry on once again not writing of the trial, but I started, and well, I've got to have told you all this story a million and one times. I know, that little plot twist at the end probably angered some of you and if that's the case I do apologize, but I have a reason for it. I apologize for the shortness but you can also expect that for a bit, I don't have much time between school, cross country practice, dinner, homework, and sleep to write lengthy(ish) chapters. We are also reaching the end of the story (only a few more chapters and an epilogue are planned) and so it will probably have more cliffhangers and what not. Hence the advanced apology. Well, I hope you enjoyed it, I really did enjoy writing in an OC like Alec. Please tell me what you thought and your suggestions.<p>

Until Next Time!


	19. Chapter 19

David couldn't recall how he had gotten himself to the courtroom; his mind had rested solely on what Rachel had said. He turned slightly in his seat to glance at his mother; she sat right behind him, dwarfed by the sheer size of his father, and dressed in a pale pink dress. She was nervously ringing her hands, worry lines obscuring her normally ethereal appearance. When she noticed him looking at her she gave him a small, would-be comforting smile but David could see the paleness of her usually rosy cheek and the smile that not quite reached her eyes, which instead remained alert and worried. Worried for him, her youngest son to whom she cared most about.

David was pulled from his thoughts by being called to stand for the judge who, once he spotted her, turned out to be a formidable middle-aged woman with tightly drawn black hair and ice-blue eyes etched into a permanently scowling face. Her calculating gaze swept around the courtroom, turning even colder as it momentarily stopped on him. He could tell from the look of great distaste that, had he wanted one, it would be unlikely that he would get a fair trial. Everyone sat sans him and Mr. Anderson, as he was expected to place his plead. His eyes wandered as the judge and lawyers went through the legal niceties.

His eyes landed on Rachel across the courtroom. She was looking down, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her gaze shifted upward just before he was to turn away and David found himself stopping. Her brown eyes always intense, were at the moment, pleading, begging him to understand what she was trying to get across. She mouthed something to him, careful to barely move her lips so it wouldn't catch anyone else's wandering eyes, but David shook his head, unable to understand. She pursed her lips and pointed her head towards the crowd.

David's gaze followed and swept the crowd for anyone Rachel would want to point out. There was Finn, jaw-set obviously trying to understand the complex nature of the openings, then Santana sitting back casually and looking stunning in a dress of deep red. Others continued down the line, some faces he knew, others were unknown; he saw no one that would cause Rachel to look that way until he reached the very back.

Extreme self-restraint was the only thing that stopped his jaw from dropping when Alec appeared in his gaze, dark hair brushed carelessly, contrasting with his pale skin and enhancing his amber colored eyes. He smiled cheekily, waving a bracelet covered hand and mouthing 'good luck!' before sitting back down in his seat.

David had turned back towards the front, heart beating erratically. Why was Alec here? He glanced towards Rachel who gave him a small, knowing smile. Obviously for Rachel, but if he knew what he had done why wasn't he running the other way? Surely he would be whispering he deserved jail rather than whispering wishes of good fortunes?

David looked to his mother, small and pale, clutching the seat nervously and thought of Alec. He could imagine, in these odd little thoughts, a life with the amber eyed boy, devoid of worry or hatred, just happiness. They didn't have to be dating, god knows David wasn't ready for that, but to be friends with the boy, that pale-skinned boy who didn't shy from him, a monster in human clothing would be dream-like. Rachel's words of deserving happiness rang through and Alec's face, smiling widely, flashed through his mind. He could hear his mother's breathing; practically see the rhythmic beat of her heart as it pounded in her chest.

He knew what he was going to do before the judge asked it of him, the word 'guilty' leaving his lips to the thunder of gasps and sudden whispers that followed but a second later. As the judge granted Mr. Anderson's request of a recess he caught sight of several faces. His father's incredulous, almost angry expression, his mother's unsurprised, nearly relieved face as she slumped back in her seat, Rachel's wide, surprised smile, and most important of all, Alec's bright, cheery, nearly flirtatious smile and wink he flung David's way before slipping out of the courtroom.

Alec could say he was surprised, at least as much as the whispering crowd that followed him from the room, but that would be a lie. He could say that he didn't know David was in the least bit attracted to him, but that would also be a lie. He could also say that Rachel hadn't convinced him that going to the trial might save David from himself, but that would be another lie. His mother had always taught him lying was a tool used by uncultured people, and Alec was a very cultured young man, at least in his opinion.

What did surprise him though, was to whom he bumped into on his way out. The force of the impact staggered him and warm, strong arms steadied him before he had time to actually fall; a voice he recognized, feared and hated admitting a soft, distracted sounding apology. When the man looked up his blue eyes widened in recognition and then narrowed in distaste as he pushed the boy away from him as if he were trash.

Alec fell against the wall, shaking as he stared through wide, fearful eyes at the man before him. He was a man of medium stature, light hair, slightly pink cheeks although they were pale as if he had recently suffered from illness, and blue eyes. Alec could remember a time when they weren't icy, but warm and laughter filled, but that was long ago before _it _had happened and now all he saw was hatred.

He was shaking nearly uncontrollably as someone he didn't quite recognize by name but by face, Rachel's blonde-haired friend with the large lips, but his eyes stayed focused on the man before him. The man who which he had once considered a father and now stared at him as if he had betrayed him in the highest of ways, which was not technically untrue.

"What the _fuck _are you doing here?" demanded Officer Jason Michaels quietly, venomously, as he stared at his son's ex-boyfriend and murderer.

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><p>Short I know and a cliffy but it's nearly my bedtime (sad I know but as I am merely fifteen my grandmother has me go to bed at nine on school nights) and I wanted to get something down. I don't think many of you saw that coming (if you did please tell me) but I wanted Alec to fit in an already established plot thread and Michaels's dead son seemed perfect. Please tell me what you thought and if you have any ideas? It's nearing the end of our nefarious tale and the plot has thickened! I apologize for the shortness and the tardiness once again. Until Next Time!<p> 


	20. Chapter 20

"What is going on here?" demanded the blond boy that had helped Alec to his feet. Alec didn't answer; his eyes were focused solely on Officer Michaels. The last time he'd seen him was just after the trial where, thin-lipped and pale-faced, he had torn into Alec for getting off. Alec remembered vividly how Officer Michaels had to be stopped from physically attacking him. An hour later he'd locked the door to his room and slit his wrist with a razor blade.

"Nothing that concerns you Samuel," Officer Michaels brought Alec from his reverie. His blue eyes stared coldly past the boy, Samuel, and directly at Alec. He took one step forward and Alec instinctively stepped backward, hitting the wall behind him. Officer Michaels approached the frightened man, stopping just a few inches from him. "Why'd they let you out, huh?" Michaels's voice was soft but it grazed against Alec's face like sandpaper and he couldn't control the wince that followed. Sam again made to intervene but a strong hand stopped him and he fell back into the crowd. "Thought you might get a kick out of the Berry trial? Been getting all buddy-buddy with Karofsky in that loony bin? Thought it a real shame he didn't finish her off, didn't you?"

Despite all his instinctual warnings, Alec found himself rising to Michaels's bait. With strength unusual for his rather benign appearance, he pushed Michaels away from him. He was dimly aware, in the back of his mind, that there was a crowd forming and the rational side of his brain warned him to stop. Sadly his anger grew like a wildfire, unstoppable and irrational and he didn't stop himself.

"You don't understand," his voice was quiet and shaky, barely discernible over the breathing and murmuring of the crowd behind him, but Michaels heard him and have out a laugh, forced and derisive in sound.

"I understand plenty. You led my son on, then, when the fun was over, you sent your dear brother to beat him to death. What's it now? You and David hit off and thought it be fun to throw a defenseless girl down the stars? Did you laugh when he told you about it? Did it please you when he explained that she couldn't even _talk_ after he was done with her you sick bast-"

"That's _not _what happened!" Alec bit out before quickly shutting his mouth. His anger fled him as the panic settled in. He had sworn, to him and his brother, to never speak of _that_ night. He could see the triumph in Michaels's eyes.

"Oh yeah? Gonna use one of your famous excuses Alexander?" Alec felt a traitorous pang in his heart. Evan Michaels was the only person who ever called him by his full name, a fact his father knew well from all the pretend fights they would have during the brief happy times of their relationship. Michaels's eyes drifted towards Alec's wrist and even though he knew the bracelet covered it, he automatically clasped his other hand over the wrist. Michael's face contorted into an ugly, malicious grin. "Guess he learned that one from you didn't he? Rather clever, a controlled 'suicide' attempt." Alec could hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice, burning acidly through Alec's mind.

Alec could feel his anger coursing through his veins. It would be easy, too easy, to simply hit Michaels. To hurt him physically to match the internal pain he felt. Instead, with his entire body tight, muscles constraining against the restrictions he placed, he fled the courtyard, running until he reached the small alley just of the steps he'd found Rachel in earlier. Cursing angrily, he punched the wall letting the external pain become a distraction from the internal. He repeated the action until blood dripped from his left hand, knuckles scratched and shredded from the coarse stone. Wondering how many more times it would take to break one, he raised his battered hand once more.

"Stop it!" A distinctly feminine voice rang out through the bleak silence and Alec turned automatically towards the voice, hand sliding behind his back, just out of sight. It would be just his luck if it got back to Uncle Hiram that he was 'self-harming'. Three figures were walking towards him, slightly out-of-breath and flustered looking from trying to find him. He recognized the three of some of Rachel's friends. There was Sam that he recognized from a few minutes ago, Brittany (if he wasn't mistaken) dressed in a flowery baby doll dress, her hair drawn into two braids, and Quinn, whom he remembered from Cheerios competitions, her blond hair flowing behind her and her heels clicking loudly across the pavement as she rushed towards him.

"Hand." She held out her own, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"It's fine," Alec lied as his hand gave a rather painful throb. Quinn made a disapproving clicking noise with her tongue and grabbed Alec's wrist. Surprised by her actions, Alec didn't stop her but made a low hissing noise as she brushed her fingers across the marred flesh. "Umm… oww?" he couldn't help the slightly sarcastic expression as he matched Quinn's steely glare with his own. She pursed her lips and rummaged one-handedly through her purse.

"It wouldn't hurt if you didn't decide to try to break your hand against the wall!" Her reprimand was fierce but he could see softness in her eyes that hadn't been there before as she dabbed the cuts with a disinfectant wipe. Brittany came over and murmured soft, half-spoken things and grabbed his right hand, obviously reacting upon the scene earlier and trying to comfort him as Sam unrolled bandages for Quinn to warp around Alec's fist. "It's not perfect, I'm fairly certain you did more than just bruise your knuckles but they don't seem broken," she experimentally bent his fingers and Alec winced. "It's the best I can do," she said finally, sounding apologetic as she dropped his hand from hers.

Alec looked down at it. The bandages had been carefully wrapped around his hand, not so tight that he would start to lose feeling, but not so loose that they would slip out of place. Alec felt his throat constrict harshly as he looked at them. There was Quinn right in front of him, eyes full of concern, Sam just far enough that Alec wouldn't feel over-crowded but not far enough to be out of the loop either, and Brittany, her small hand soft and warm in his own. "Why?" he asked quietly. "Why do you care? You don't even know me, so why?"

Quinn looked at him. When he and Rachel had come into the courtroom hand in hand her curiosity had peeked and she demanded to know who he was. In the brief time before the trial had started, Rachel had explained how Alec was her cousin and they had grown up together. She explained how he was a free-spirited type of boy, passionate and flighty, never taking anything serious. Quinn didn't see that boy now, she saw a scared, scarred boy that needed someone.

"I don't know what Officer Michaels was talking about but whatever it was, it didn't sound nice and you looked like you needed someone. Look, you don't have to talk to us or anything." Quinn smiled reassuringly at him, placing her small hand on his shoulder. "I also know, that sometimes, when something is bothering me, like seriously bothering me, talking to someone helps." Alec scoffed.

"Honey, Rach says you aren't nearly as much of a bitch as you used to be but I doubt talking to a stranger will help me much." Sam bit back a laugh. Quinn glared, but there was a twitch in the side of her mouth.

"Seriously though," she readdressed Alec and from the look she gave him, he doubted he could half-joke his way out of things this time around. "I think you need to talk about whatever the hell just happened in there?" she pointed to the courtroom. Alec shifted awkwardly and Brittany tightened her hold on his hand.

"It's okay." She told him, her bright blue eyes shining brilliantly in her wide, reassuring smile. "If you feel uncomfortable, that is. We understand." She squeezed his hand. "But it might make you feel better you know."

"I doubt it." Alec didn't know what caused him to speak and he regretted it immediately. He wouldn't even tell Rachel what happened, what possessed him to open up to these three people he barely knew? "Don't you think the trial will be starting up soon?" He tried to back track. Quinn shook her head.

"After Karofsky admitting like that? I'd be surprised if the trial continued." She responded and Alec cursed silently, "I know how it feels for you, you're confused and restless and you want to talk to someone but at the same time you don't want anyone to know what you feel, how someone made you feel. You don't want to seem weak, or a victim, but you are also afraid they'd take it the opposite way. You don't want someone to blame solely you, to tell you its petty and to get over it, that it was you're mistake and you need to live with it." Alec's eyebrows shot up.

"I don't think we've been in _quite_ the same predicament." Her eyes traveled up and down his body, "as I don't think you have the right equipment to get knocked up." She stated bluntly, "but that's what some little crazy old lady said to me one day and got me to open up to her." Alec doubted no matter what Quinn said he would be telling her his life story.

"I was crying in the parking lot of Walmart one day and she just came up to me, offered to buy me lunch, and not even an hour later I was spilling it all to her, how Finn wasn't really the father but how after all he and his mother did for me I just couldn't tell him that and how I must be some stupid whore to sleep with her boyfriend's best friend. I remember she nearly yelled at me for that, then she hugged me. Told me everyone mistakes and I just had to do what I thought was right for my baby. I never saw her again but she was the one that made me give Puck a chance to raise his daughter, not watch her from the distance, as another man raised her."

Quinn smiled sadly, lost in the memories of a much rougher time in her life. Alec felt for her, he really did. He could see her trying to help him, but still he couldn't open up, not this secret, not this time, not these people. He felt a tug on his arm pull him from his thoughts and he turned to address Brittany. She was staring at him with those vivid blue eyes again but instead of one of her gentle smiles, a small frown was perched on her pink lips as she stared intently at Alec.

"Someone hurt you, didn't they?" she asked quietly and Alec nearly jumped in shock. "My uncle raped me when I was little," his eyes widened at her straight-forwardness, at the completely emotionless way she stated such a horrible crime, "to my parents, he was the go-to babysitter so it happened a lot. When my parents finally found out, it was because they'd walked in on him and me, not because they believed me. They used to think I was telling fibs to get myself attention. They bought a high-end psychologist, I think, to make it up to me. He used to say that when someone is hurt by another human, by someone they trusted, that it leaves scars, that upon first inspection you may not see, but get closer and you see it. Dullness in their eyes, or a smile that never reaches the eyes, or a laugh that never truly fills itself with joy. He was like a straight, non-magical Dumbledore without the awesome beard."

Alec felt his throat constrict again and he couldn't speak. Sam, who had been watching closely, gestured towards the other two. "Come on guys, I think Alec wants to be left alone for a bit." He gently pried Brittany's protesting hand from his and with Quinn shooting one last glance; they slowly ambled away from him, back toward the courthouse. Watching their retreating backs gave Alec the courage to throw out his lifeline.

"Me and his son dated." Those simple words were all it took. Quinn inwardly marveled at Sam's stroke of genius and turned back to Alec. His head was bowed, but she saw his amber eyes flicker up as they slowly re-approached him. He began to speak once they had gotten into relative hearing distance. "Evan Michaels was his name, and for me, for my first serious relationship, he was amazing. For a while it was great, we could joke around without worrying the other one would take offence, we could just do something random one day and not care whether it ended up being a total flop or the best day in our lives." He closed his eyes against the memories, neither trying to acknowledge them or push them away, but get through with them.

"What happened?" Quinn asked, her voice shockingly quiet. Alec smiled bitterly at the ground.

"It went downhill after the first few months, right after Evan told his father we were dating. Jason Michaels likes to pretend he was a great, understanding father that was always there for his son, but he wasn't. He always cared more about the cases then he did him. When Evan told him he was gay and seeing a boy in a serious relationship, he was shocked. He began to pull away, not noticeably, he was very kind and a lot of the time we all hung out together, watching the game, but me and Evan both could feel it. Evan began to blame his failing relations with his father on his homosexuality, on us. Me, specifically."

Sam didn't like the tone Alec was using, carefully flat, devoid of all emotion. He felt a looming sense of dread as he asked his question, "Did he hit you?" Minutely, barely perceptively, Alec nodded.

"At first just a little bit. A slap here or there if I said or did something that upset him. He always apologized after and even though I'd been incredibly pissed at the time, I'd find myself going back. Falling back into the rabbit hole so to speak, except no Wonderland awaited me, only a nightmare. The hits got worse, I started getting bruises. I used to dance, back then, so I'd blame them on that. One on my hip? A new janitor had accidently waxed the floor. My family didn't believe, not after a while, but they didn't suspect sweet Evan with the polite manners. They thought it was bullies, homophobes at my school. It was all I could do to stop them from going to the school and complaining."

"And no one thought of Evan? They all thought it was bullies?" Quinn asked, lips pursed slightly. It would seem rather silly to never even think of the new boyfriend as a factor in the person's life.

"My brother, he's two years older, we went to the same school, he knew no one was messing with me. He, on the other hand, played along with my excuses, at least for a while." Alec paused, careful to clip his voice into his unemotional façade as he spoke, "He walked into my bedroom one day, lent me his iPod cord and was going to ask for it back. Being in a household where he had two younger brothers and only one little sister who was of an age that still required help with dressing, we had never really pushed the knocking. " He smiled bitterly again.

"How bad was it?" Brittany whispered. She alone could read the signs. Whatever happened next wasn't going to be pretty.

"Bad, Britt, it was bad." Alec closed his eyes, his back bristling at the thought of the long healed bruises. "Evan had shoved me, hard, into the lockers at school that day. I had bruises all down my back, and two identical hand-shaped ones on my hips from where he'd shoved. They were unmistakable. My brother was pissed but I convinced him that I had merely gotten into a fight with another boy at school and had come out worse. It wasn't until he saw Evan actually raise a hand to me that he knew the truth, and then it was too late." Alec's will lost and he could feel the traitorous tears slid down his cheeks.

"It was an accident, he'd only meant to push him away from me, to stop him from hitting me, but he'd shoved too hard and when Evan fell, his head hit against the stone, hard. We called nine-one-one, but by the time the ambulance came, there was nothing they could do. Evan was pronounced dead-on-arrival at the hospital and my brother was taken to a holding-cell in the County Jail until the trial began. He made me keep my silence and he alone testified and went to jail for the murder of Evan Michaels. Everyone else saw me the victim of some tragic misunderstanding, except Michaels. He alone cornered in the end of the trial, much like this time around, and blamed me for his son's death."

There was no trace of any emotion when he finally lifted his gaze, pushing down the bracelet of his left hand and showing them the jagged scar that jutted out against his skin. "He's who I thank for giving me the reason for this. He's the one that voiced all my fears aloud; the death of Evan and the imprisonment of my brother were my entire fault and mine alone. My younger brother, Damy, was the one who found me, Cam had taught him to pick locks. He called nine-one-one and after they stitched me up, I was moved to the Traverse Juvenile Hospital for an undisclosed amount of time. That's where I live now, my family comes and visits me daily."

Quinn crossed the short distance between her and the boy and pulled him into a tight embrace. "What happened to you is horrible but it was not and nor will it ever be _your _fault? Do you understand?" her words were fierce and Alec felt all resolve leave him and found himself crying into the blonde's shoulder earnestly. After a few moments, he felt two more bodies join it and he was in the middle of an odd, many-bodied hug.

"You know what the worst part is?" he whispered once they pulled away, "I met David there." Their eyebrows shot up in question and he nodded to the courthouse, "that very one. Pills you know, are a lot less messy than slit wrists, don't leave scars, physical ones anyway." They stared at him, shocked. "You should have seen him, he was sorry, so sorry for what he did. And scared, scared of me and what I thought of him. He only ever talked to Rachel, everyone else he was silent to, even his mother. Still, Rach told me all about him. All about how much he hated himself. All of it. I started paying more attention to him and I saw what she meant. That and more. I noticed how sometimes his eyes would lose their cloudiness when I said good morning and joined him at breakfast despite him never speaking. I noticed how if I said something particularly amusing the barest of smiles would flicker, only for a second, but that it was beautiful."

"You fell in love," Brittany summarized and Alec nodded.

"With the man who nearly killed my cousin and whom I should hate. I fell in love with a man who is willingly going to jail because he feels so bad for what he did and who wasn't going to plead because he knew he would get a more severe punishment." He shook his head incredulously.

"But….he plead guilty?" Quinn said in a questioning tone, "He looked into the crowd and then plead guilty. He looked… he saw you!" she realized looking in shock at the dark-haired boy. "He cares for you!" she added. Alec smiled bitterly.

"Maybe, probably not. Even if he did he wouldn't befriend me, it will part of his righteous punishment to have no happiness. Rachel spent weeks trying to get him to stop hating himself, to start taking care of himself. Although, I don't you guys care much, as long as he can stop hurting you all?" He didn't ask it to be mean, he didn't mean for it to be vicious, but still the three winced.

"I think…. I don't think that's right." Sam said, slowly, eyes downcast as he spoke, "I've come to realize that life's not simple like comics and movies like to think, it's not all good and evil specifically. There are shades of gray in between. That's where David lies. In the gray, he isn't innocent and he deserves to go to jail, but he's not evil and he doesn't deserve it for life. He deserves to be cared for, to be loved and treated well, and to get help for his problems." Sam shook his head, "It's not his fault his father was – is a homophobic bastard," Quinn looked as if she agreed and Brittany was about to say something when someone appeared in the light flooded entry way to the alley.

"Guys?" The voice of Kurt Hummel, soft in its uncertainty, broke through, "The trial is starting up again. The court's reached an agreement." With reassuring smiles and a small, warm hand tucked in his, Alec left the alleyway with the three, leaving behind a great weight. He only hoped more wasn't about to be added.

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><p>A long chapter as opposed to the recently short ones I've been updating! Also, had some of the old cast mates rather than just my OC, David, and Rachel, which I hope you guys enjoyed. The reason Alec is involved with Michaels's son is I realized that I put a lot of emphasis on him in the chapters that included Michaels and then never really developed it. I thought this worked rather well though and I enjoyed this chapter. My story's nearing the end, now, only a few more chapters! Please tell me what you thought and, until next time!<p> 


	21. Chapter 21

Sorry this chapter's late but school's been brutal (I'm actually procrastinating homework to post this) but I hope you enjoy this chapter.

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><p>Shocked. Numb. Robert Karofsky couldn't think; he barely noticed as everyone ambled slowly out of the courtroom. Guilty, his son had stated. Guilty, his son had pleaded. But, his son was guilty of no crime; he had not done anything wrong. So what if he got a little handsy with that ditz cheerleader? From what he heard, she was a bit of a slut anyway. And of those accusations that Berry girl had, not one of them was even founded. David was innocent, and yet, he had pleaded guilty.<p>

Robert watched as his son was approached by his lawyer. Mr. Anderson, Robert remembered, had a gay son. He remembered how David seemed off since Mr. Anderson had been appointed. Could it be that he had convinced his son he had done something wrong? Had he made his son plead guilty by twisting and constraining his thoughts to fit the ideals of the Berry's?

Angrily, he convinced himself that was so and he approached Mr. Anderson and David with those thoughts in mind. "What the _hell_? What have you been telling my son Anderson? Pleading guilty when we both know he's damn innocent?" Eyes locked solely on Anderson, he didn't notice his son shifting nervously.

"I can assure you, Mr. Karofsky, that David's plead was as surprising to me as it was to you." Eyes blood-shot and tired made it easy for Robert to make out dishonesty in them.

"Yeah, just as much as you weren't whispering how you knew he was guilty in his ear each step of the way? You were biased from the start, having that abysmal son of yours being what he is!" Anderson glared daggers at the larger man.

"How _dare_ you? My son has nothing to do with this! I have never in my entire career done _anything _to jeopardize my client's case!" Anderson was breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and done. Robert made to advance, whether to argue more or simply hit Anderson, he wasn't sure. Before he could do either, David stepped in between the two men, hands on either chest to push them away.

"Dad, stop." Robert was surprised at the tone of his son's voice and stopped struggling. David's eyes dropped to the floor.

"David?" He asked quietly. His son looked at him them, light brown eyes pleading. Robert understood then, in that one moment, what his son had been trying to say; what his son had done. "Oh God, David, _why_?" David looked away, not at the floor, but to Rachel Berry. She gave him a small nod and an encouraging smile. Robert wondered when the two had become so close that they were the only two to understand what was happening. Robert's eyes followed David's as they made their silent way across the courtroom.

"Tell him David," Rachel Berry's voice was soft and kind, but it didn't stop a terrified look from crossing David's face. Robert didn't understand it, but Rachel seemed to for her smile turned reassuring. "Not about _that_, you'll never have to him about that if you never want to," Robert watched his son relax slightly and wondered who she was talking about, it couldn't be him that his son was so freaked out about. "I'm talking about the _incident _David." She placed so much emphasis on the word that even Robert knew what she meant.

"I can't." David was shaking his head again. "I deserve this Rachel; I don't want anyone to know about that." Rachel's eyes hardened and for such a small women, she looked suddenly frightening.

"You deserve to get slapped upside the head David! _It _could save you!" Something that could save his son? Robert wondered what on earth the small girl could know that could save his son. David was shaking his head again adamantly, and Robert got the feeling that he and Rachel had this fight quite often.

"I deserve punishment Rachel, what I did was horrifying wrong. You know I'm not just talking about that, Rachel. I'm talking about what I did to Kurt, to Brittany, and to everyone else that I hurt because I was ashamed of myself." Rachel shook her head, her brown eyes shining.

"You're right. You deserve something, what you did was wrong, but not this," her arms gestured around the courtroom. "Kurt, Brittany, everyone else, they've all gotten over what you did to them, it's trivial in comparison to what they think you did. It's all just down to this. This and letting go of all these things you cling to. You need to find closer, David, for what you did. Going to jail isn't going to help you forgive yourself, it's only going to cement the ideas that what you did in moments of foolishness is unforgiveable and it's _not._"

Rachel's eyes shone with unshed tears and Robert realized that this girl cared quite a bit for his son. Why did she? Why did she care if he had hurt her so? If he had hurt her friends so? Rachel steadied herself and Robert realized just how badly she was shaking. Was it her injuries, not quite as healed as she made them appear, or simply the over-turn of emotion she had?

"So either you tell them, or I will." Her voice was clear, clear and compassionate but still David's face shone with fear, his look pleading to Rachel. Rachel herself glared determinedly right back and Robert doubted that she was fibbing. Whatever his son didn't want people to know, this girl was going to tell a judge and a jury. A part of him, the protective, fatherly part, wanted to stop her but he remained transfixed, torn between consternation and curiosity. David remained silent, neither stepping up to the challenge nor running away from it, merely staring at Rachel with those large sad brown eyes.

The girl in question seemed to steel herself before taking a deep breath and turning to the judge and jury. "It was an accident." She said to the tumultuous silence around her. "When I confronted David," her eyes glazed over momentarily as she thought of the accident. "and after we had a few words, none too polite mind you, and I turned to Brittany and we began walking and David," she paused again her eyes closed, "had yelled, and started running, it wasn't to push me down, or Brittany either."

Several members of the jury leaned forward at that, as did the judge whose face was caught between disapproval at the way the court proceeding was going and human curiosity. The Berrys were staring, transfixed, at their daughter and Robert's own son was staring at the girl impassively.

"He was running to the stairway, it's the only one on that side of the wing. When I was pushed into, it was more of a brush of his shoulder as he ran blindly past. He hadn't meant to harm me like that but as I am so much smaller than him," she gestured between her small frame and David's noticeably larger one, "I lost my balance and fell." She finished, her brown eyes not leaving the judge's sharp ones.

The judge stared down at Rachel through her glasses, a frown weaving itself onto her features, as she looked thoughtfully at the small group. "If what you say is true, why didn't David Karofsky say so himself, and why if he never wanted to hurt someone, did he threaten the life of Kurt Hummel?" The questions, Robert feared, had stumped Rachel and he was sure that was the end of the small possibility of David's freedom.

Rachel's eyes traveled to David and although his eyes seemed fixed at the wall just beyond the judge's head, he gave her a minute nod, his jaw set. She turned back to the judge. "David didn't say anything because he felt he deserved the full extent of the law, even though the crime was an accident." She answered honestly. The judge stared for a few moments.

"That doesn't explain my last question, Miss Berry." She retorted, her body sliding back into her chair. Rachel closed her eyes momentarily. Robert wondered if she was sending out a silent prayer.

"Well, I can't tell you explicitly _why _David had done what he'd done, that's for him to say if and only if he feels himself ready but I can tell you what he felt when he did it." Rachel said once she'd opened her eyes, "He was scared. Frightened, and like a young child, he lashed out. In a moment of – weakness I suppose, he had revealed something to Kurt that he'd told not a breath of to anyone else. Once he realized the full extent of this, he reacted with the only way he knew how to. He threatened Kurt to keep the secret quiet."

"It's not a nice thing," she shot David a disapproving look, "but can any of you," she gestured towards the judge and jury, "say you have never done anything similar. Not threaten to kill," she added hastily to the angry, indignant looks that arose at her statement, "but have any of you _not _done something you're not proud of to keep a secret?" No one spoke for a bit and when they did, the question was directed to David, not Rachel.

"Tell us, Mister Karofsky, what this secret is that was deemed so important that Kurt Hummel's life needed to be threatened to keep it?" Her voice was cold and inquisitive. David looked scared, like a small animal in the presence of a larger, and his eyes shot around. They landed on Rachel and she merely smiled. She winked and thoughts of Alec came to mind. He thought of what he knew of the boy, the dark, messy hair, the bright hazel eyes and the way his mouth turned upwards into that adorable smile of his. He thought of the quiet hello's and flirty winks, the bracelets that adorned his arm.

He thought of other things, of things that could happen. He, David, holding hands with the boy, as they walked down the street, either oblivious or simply not caring of the people around them. He thought of Alec, a dancer as he had told everyone during the mandatory group therapy, forcing him to the dance floor with a challenging smirk and sharp tug of his hand. He thought of everything they could be, if David was ever willing.

He turned to his father. Robert Karofsky hated everything abnormal; he was the one that taught David it was wrong to feel the way he felt, he was the one that said anyone who felt that way was going to hell, where they deserved to be for falling into such evil temptations. "_Like God punishing the foolish Eve for biting into the forbidden fruit", _he remembered his father telling him at a young age, when he was explaining to his three year old son why he had called social services on a couple with a young girl his age," _we need to punish these homosexuals, men and women, for their sins. To raise a child in a sinning household and to even maintain the face of a holy family with their trust in God, is a crime and no child should ever have to go through such painful times."_

"_I did it to save her, Davie" _he remembered his father trying to comfort the small boy as he cried about how the only kind that would play with him in the playschool was suddenly gone. Would his father feel that way about him, that he was a sinner going to hell, if he admitted what he was?

He looked to Rachel, her lustrous dark hair framing her beautiful face, her eyes bright and smile encouraging. He knew that Rachel accepted him for all his faults and would support him. He knew she would be there for him if his face turned out to feel so. He closed his eyes and thought. Thought of his choices, he could go back to his old life, living in the shrouded lies he constructed and the approval of his God-fearing father, or he could turn to a new life, basking in the light of honesty, and the possibility of his father hating him.

He made his choice in a split second, opening his eyes and muttering the words before he could change his mind. "I'm gay." Silence followed and he closed his eyes before he could see his father's reaction, "I slipped up and kissed Kurt one day. Then, when I realized he told Blaine, his openly gay friend, and that he could tell anyone else he wanted to if he ever felt vindictive enough, and that it could get back to my father who's homophobic, I panicked and told him if he told anyone else I would kill him."

He explained it all in a breath and opened his eyes, and focused them on the judge. So determined that he would not turn around, he didn't notice the relieved smile of Rachel as she knew how hard it was for him and how much it had just saved him, or the pitying look of Mr. Anderson as he realized what the young boy had been hiding, or the understanding one of Leroy Berry, the angriest Berry father, as he recalled the painful moment in his own teenage life that he had come out to his own disapproving father. He didn't notice his father's shocked look as the words reverberated in his head.

He didn't notice any of these looks, he didn't notice when the judge gave a short bang with her gavel and declared a mistrial, he didn't notice when the crowd came piling back in, three blondes following a brunet to Rachel to find out what had happened. It was too late to take back all the things he'd done, all the wrong he'd committed. It was too late to take back all the things his father had deeply branded into him in order to 'save' him. It was too late to take back what he'd just revealed to the world.

It was too late for it all, he knew, but as Rachel ran to hug him in relief, as her friends followed to grudgingly apologize, and as Alec gave him a surprisingly shy smile and slid his lean hand into his own larger one; David realized he didn't care.

For once in his life, he didn't worry about his father's disapproval or how much he'd be hated by him if he knew the truth, and as he was gently steered out of the courtroom by the Berry men who wanted a word with the boy, he didn't care how late he was; for he had finally found himself and that felt a hell of a lot better than his father's approval.

Robert watched his son go with the Berrys. His _gay _son. David's words echoed in his ears and he, at first, wondered where he had gone wrong. Then, he watched as people approached his son, as a brunet he didn't know grabbed his son's hand and he saw the smile, that tiny but relieved smile that lay on his son's lips. David was happy and in that moment he realized it didn't matter what he thought, only his son's happiness mattered.

But, he realized as his son walked out of the courtroom, another father's hand on his shoulder to guide him, he was too late. Too late to teach his son his happiness mattered beyond all other things. Too late to tell him he loved him. Most of all, he was too late to tell him he loved him no matter what; that he always had and always would.

Robert was too late to tell his son this, and despair became his company in the quickly emptying courtroom as he realized he might never get another chance; as he realized he had found the acceptance his wife had tried to teach him too late in his life.

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><p>So, David didn't really mean to hurt her, it was all an accident and Robert Karofsky kind of ended up the bad guy. This story really changed from the very first chapter to this one, the second to last. I kind of thought of leaving it at this but I figured you guys hate me enough for all the plot twists, secrets, lies, and crazy connections in which all the characters were a part of, so I have an epilogue planned out all nice. And I can promise you, it won't be all negative, but happy. Any way tell me what you thought and if you have anything or anyone specific you would like to see in the epilogue. For the very last time (for this story at least) until next time!<p> 


	22. Epilogue

I'm sorry, I know this is really, really belated, but I finally finished it and I quite like it and I hope you do too. =D

Warnings: I'm not sure if I really have to put this, especially if you've seen the episode "First Time" which was REALLY bad (sexually explicit-wise), but towards the end there is some (kind of? Maybe not?) racy material and some crude humor that I'm giving you fair warning about. Please don't get upset or anything, I was just bored and that's how it turned out. Onto the (last) chapter!

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><p>The white walls of the waiting room pressed upon the silent group, the shuffle of feet and soft rustle of out-of-date magazines mixed with the subdued sobs of the grieving mother at the end of the room. They all hated hospitals. They hated the smell of lemon scented sanitizers and bitter medicine masked with disgustingly sweet flavors that hung through the air. They hated the plain, oppressive white walls and the falsely cheery fake plants. They hated the obviously bored, monotonous interns that always seemed to be left to man the window.<p>

Most of all, though, they hated the finality of hospitals, the goodbyes that were bade there, the tears shed there, the people who left there; hospitals were for departing souls to bid their adieu's and this particular group of people had listened to far too many farewells in the enclosed public buildings to feel any particular fondness for them.

One dark haired, fair skinned man sat within the group, toes tapping impertinently against the polished tile to the chagrin of the girl besides them who shot him nasty looks every time his leather clad toes made contact on the cool ground. He was beautiful, his body lithe but with enough muscle to indicate hidden power within the seemingly relaxed body, his dark hair, chocolate in color, was just long enough to cover his eyes if he looked down and messy, either purposely or from running through it with his hands all day, but the most striking thing about his slightly effeminate person were his eyes.

Almond in shape, they struck out from thick lashes and pale skin, the striking color of amber. His face was forced relaxed, sculpted in a way that seemed to say he was completely calm but his eyes betrayed the façade. They were darkened, more luminescent in his worry. Besides him, the rest of the group was in various states of the same worry, some with schooled faces such as his, others with the panic etched across like chisel on stone. Some were thinking of a similar situation, some ten years ago now, where they had been forced to wait, with no news and only worry as company. It did not bode well for them.

The door to the hospital rang open, revealing the feature of a new figure, one that was distinctly male. He was of relative height – 5'11 or so, and muscular. He was of a handsome disposition, slightly tanned skin, black-brown hair, and warm colored brown eyes. At the sight of him, the other man stood, long legs making quick work of the small room as he walked over to him.

"Any news?" The newcomer asked, voice gruff and laced with worry, just loud enough to travel to the carefully listening group beyond him. The man shook his head, biting his lip worryingly. The newcomer sighed, and in a move that attracted the attention of several stragglers around the room but no the group itself, pulled the slightly taller man into his arms. "She'll be okay, I'm sure everything's fine," He told him quietly, gently but reassuringly stroking his mid-back.

"But it's been so long and we haven't had any news," The man felt his carefully constructed façade break and buried his head into the other man's chest. "David, I'm scared," he told him unabashedly, arms reaching to wrap around David's neck, his dark sleeve sliding down to reveal a faded scar against his pale skin.

"I repeat, she'll be fine." David told him firmly and pulled away from the young man to direct him the chair. He got some weak smiles and quiet greeting from the rest of the adults and one fair-skinned, bright eyed two year old came up to him, arms out expectantly and dark curls tied in pigtails with green ribbons.

"Hello Ginny," he told the little girl, lifting her up into his arms and eliciting a bell-like laugh. Alec smiled at the two. The smile was fond but did not quite reach his eyes, a look that was mirrored but the rest of the group at the interaction. One a good day there would have been a good deal of cooing at the gentleness David showed his only niece and a great deal of embarrassing chatter and demands on when they would have children of their own while Ginny got bored from it all and went to play with the other children.

Sadly the little brunette was let to her own devices as Quinn and Puck's four year old Isabella was with Quinn's mother, Kurt and Blaine's two year old twins Luna and Violet were with their grandfather, Santana and Brittany's three-year old Leo was with Isabella and Sam and Mercedes's one and a half year old Damien was with Mercedes's mother. Ginny had been the only child brought because of whom it was in the hospital. The adults deemed it inappropriate for the others.

Just as David sat down besides Alec with Ginny firmly seated in his lap, a doctor came out and the worry turned an all-time high as the aged Latin man approached the group, dark stains marring his otherwise white uniform. His face was impassive as he gestured for the group to follow him and they did so with heavy hearts.

"Is she okay?" The girl who had sat beside Alec, Santana, asked the doctor quietly. He didn't say anything, but opened a door to the side and gently gestured them inside. It was quiet and as the people piled in, dread was still filling their hearts, leaving them to feel as if their chests had been replaced with lead. A tall man sat there, next to a motionless figure. Tears tracked down his face and Santana's voice shook ever so slightly as she addressed him, "Finn? Finn is she okay?"

The whole group held their breath as Finn turned towards them and released it collectively as they saw a soft, tired smile slowly unfold on his mouth. "Yeah, she's just sleeping. It's been a long night, too many surprises aren't healthy." Quietly, he pushed up from the chair, looking at his wife worryingly as it squeaked across the floor but she slept on.

"You jerk!" Alec felt like slapping him. "You called us here in the middle of the damn day because Rachel had fallen and gone into premature labor and then don't say anything for _hours!_" His voice was kept quiet, but the tone was fierce enough that Finn was left smiling sheepishly and rubbing his neck.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to your new niece," Alec glared at him but otherwise was mollified as Finn led them from the room to the nursery where all the newborns were laying. "See?" he pointed towards the left, where a tuft of dark brown hair was just visible on the small pink bundle. The group watched as the little baby, just an hour old, opened her eyes and squinted up at the ceiling.

"She's beautiful," Alec said, anger completely gone in favor of staring at his brand new niece. Beside him, David lifted up Ginny and pointed towards the bundle.

"See her, Gin-Gin? That's your brand new baby sister," he told the child who stared at the baby through thoughtful brown eyes. Rachel had fussed about whether or not the new child would cause jealousy in Ginny and seeing as both her and Finn were only children (at least for the most of their lives) neither had any idea and the group held their breath until Ginny smiled.

"Name?" she asked, slurring the word so much it took a second for David to understand what she'd asked.

"Name?" the child nodded impatiently, and Alec stifled a laugh. Ginny had quite the personality, "Oh! Uh…." David turned towards Finn questionably and Finn looked back at his new child.

"Well, Rachel really wanted to be the one to tell you guys, and we've been meaning to talk to you to," he gestured towards Alec and David, "but then Rach fell and the baby was coming and we just…. Ran out of time, I guess." Alec made motions for him to get on with it and Finn smiled ruefully. "Well, you know how Ginny's full name is Ginevra Elizabeth?" The entire group nodded even as Finn really only addressed Alec and David. "And you know why, right?" David didn't but Alec nodded again.

"Ginevra because that's what Rachel told you she wanted to name her first daughter when you proposed but also in honor of Blaine, one of her godfathers, and Elizabeth in honor of Kurt's mother, as Kurt is the other godfather, right?" Finn nodded.

"Well, we decided to name her," he gestured towards his now sleeping baby girl, "Jamie Alexandra in honor of who we hope will agree to be her godfathers, Alexander Jason Berry and David James Karofsky?" he posed the end of the sentence as a question and looked towards the now blinking duo. It took a while, but they finally woke from their surprise.

"We'd love to," Alec said after a quick glance at a smiling David. Finn smiled in relief.

"Wonderful, but when Rach asks you guys, pretend to be surprised. She'd kill me otherwise," the group at large laughed, relieved at the sudden deflation of all the worry and happy at the apparently healthy baby and shell-shocked godfathers. They disbanded, some to pick up their children, some to call others and tell them the news and still others back into the small room to await Rachel's wakening, and two specific people to stare at their goddaughter, who stared back as well as she could through squinty, unfocused newborn eyes.

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><p>"David?" David's boyfriend woke him from a deep sleep a few hours later. He turned to look at him, his dark eyes focusing on the pale face after a few moments. Alec's face was worried and without thinking about he gently sat up and pulled him into a light hug.<p>

"What is it?" He asked quietly. Alec didn't respond for a few minutes, instead basking in the reassuring warmth of his lover.

"Do you think it's too late for us?" he asked and after David shot him a confused and slightly worried look he clarified. "For children, I mean. Everyone else already has one. Hell Artie's wife just gave birth to their second a few months ago and Tina and Mike just had their third. And now Rachel and Finn have two as well. I'm just worried it's too late for us." He finished somewhat lamely, looking down at his dark lap as opposed to David. David smiled fondly at him. It wasn't often anymore, that he saw this side of his controlled lover, the unsure, self-conscious side that needed someone to protect him.

"It's never too late," he told him and Alec's smile lit up and with gentle hands, he pulled David in for a soft kiss that quickly turned searing. After a few minutes they broke apart and David smiled, "Beside, we're not even thirty yet!" Alec laughed.

"I don't want to have wrinkles when the kids are graduating!" he responded, wrinkling his nose just enough that David laughed, gently kissing his nose in response.

"You? Wrinkles? With the amount of cream you put on your face?" He snorted at Alec's affronted face and kissed him once more. "Done worrying now?" Alec nodded. "Good. Let's go to sleep, we've got to head over to the hospital first thing in the morning to help Finn and Rachel." He gently pulled Alec back into the warm recess of the bed and lifted the covers over them. He was almost to sleep when Alec spoke again, his warm voice tickling David's neck as he spoke.

"But you've got to marry me first, my mother would murder us if we even thought of children before marriage even if they aren't from us 'procreating'," David groaned. He had talked about marriage with Alec a little over a year ago, but they had continuously put it off do to the multiple children their friends had suddenly decided to have. Now that all the children had been born Alec was going to be back on_ that _and David really wished another kid would pop out of the hedges to provide a plausible distraction.

"We will stop at the courthouse along the way," he murmured back, wrapping his arm around his lithe lover. Alec wriggled away just slightly, teasingly.

"Rachel would murder us," he whispered back, face now pressed into David's neck and mouth nearly touching his ear, sending shivers down his spine as the breath teased him warmly. Alec was feeling playful now and David was most likely not going to get his rest. Damn it. "Besides," his voice had dropped lower and his body was now pressed fully onto David. He bit back a groan. Definitely not going to sleep tonight. "You promised your mother that if you and I ever got married you would invite your father," David groaned audibly.

"I don't want to," He replied and he knew he sounded childish. Alec merely laughed and kissed his neck.

"You have to. Besides, you want to rekindle your relationship with your father right?" David really didn't feel comfortable having this discussion while Alec was pressed so tightly against him but he also knew he wouldn't get any reprieve unless he played his lover's game.

"Yes, but it's been so long I don't think he's going to accept it, I think it's too late." He responded, self-doubt that hadn't been heard since the beginning of their relationship creeping into his voice. Alec merely smiled devilishly.

"Someone rather smart told me it's never too late," he whispered and David groaned audibly as Alec pressed his lips firmly against his. Neither spoke for quite some time.

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><p>"You're too late." The bored student assistant told a disheveled Alec and exhausted David the next morning, popping her gum audibly and not even looking from her magazine, "they've already checked out. Probably home by now," she waved her arm dismissively and the two turned away. David noticed his fiancée's amused smirk and turned red.<p>

"Don't even mention it," he growled at him and Alec laughed, intertwining their hands together.

"Oh come on, you have to think it's a little funny. I mean the way she said it," Alec trailed off suggestively and David groaned and blushed harder.

"No I don't. I think its humiliating that my fiancée thinks that way _all _the damn time and that it's his fault we missed Rachel and Finn too." Alec laughed and pulled David in for a light kiss, whispering in his ear before letting go.

"It takes two to tango, you know," his breath was warm and his voice was quiet, a sultry whisper like the night before. David blushed red and pulled hastily from his lover.

"We're going to be late again if you don't stop messing around and let us get to the Hudson house," he told him, the flush of his cheeks not quite fading. Alec laughed again.

"I wouldn't mind if being late entailed an encore of last night," he told him with a wink, a laugh escaping him as David blushed red. His face stayed that color all throughout the drive and into greeting the now larger family, prompting Rachel to ask concernedly if he was catching a cold or feeling feverish. His skin flushed harder as Alec explained they had merely had a late night.

He briefly contemplated early mariticide as Alec gently grabbed his hand and smiled cheekily at him. He blushed slightly as Santana, who had arrived earlier then even Rachel and Finn and had prepared a 'Welcome home baby Jay!' party of sorts, asked point blank if they had gotten dirty and Alec merely smiled secretively in response, eyes dancing mischievously. He sighed outwardly, and smiled inwardly. It was probably too late to find anyone that his mother would be so taken with and he didn't think he'd want to.

For all the embarrassment Alec and was currently putting him though (Brittany was now asking loudly who topped and Finn was holding baby Jamie's ears and looking as if he wished someone would do the same to him), he loved him as well as the crazy family he'd pulled him in. And it was definitely too late to find another love like this.

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><p>Again, I'm sorry it's so late. I want to clarify something before the review hits. Alec wasn't being self-conscious about children because he actually thought himself as old, merely because all of his friendsfamily were having or had children and he was still unmarried. Also, I don't think what I wrote was too too bad but I put the warning because I've seen less that had one and I wanted to be careful. Just for curiosity, how many of you thought something bad had happened? I wrote the beginning to kind of mirror the original hospital time directly after Rachel's accident and to kind of leave it ambiguous. Points for anyone that told me they knew what was happening in the beginning. That's why I wrote the end as basic fluff/crude humor, and because I was bored and a flushing David seems hilarious to me at the moment. I've realized that this turned into more Alec/David then anyone else but that's just how it turned out. I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I left the epilogue rather loose so that you can leave it to your interpretation. Or so I could write shamelessly fluffy one-shots later, I don't now. I hope you enjoyed this, goodbye. =D


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